ten years, two people, one story; in which an artist falls in love with a writer. July 2014 - April 2015

"Zayn," he spoke, smoke leaving his lips once again as he dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with his dark boots. His hand darted in between us as he awaited a response. "January," I said faintly, grabbing his hand. "Nice," he chuckled, making the first move to release my cold fingers. His hands held a nice warmness to them. "Like the month," he nodded. "I like it." *** » read the sequel here http://my.w.tt/UiNb/y9izHftVhv