"I love you," he says, cupping my cheek. 'Is this you or your character? Do you really mean it?' I silently screamed, so badly wanting to know the answer. Because Aaron Hunter, I might just love you, too. "And that's a wrap."

❝HELP HELP HELLLP!❞ ❝Hello, this is the Fine Apple market, and no, we are not an Apple knockoff store; how may I help you?❞ ❝Well, someone just stole my phone.❞ ❝Sorry, what?❞ ❝You asked how you could help me.❞ ❝...Oh.❞ ◽︎◾︎◽︎ in which a jittery workaholic who realizes she needs help and an antisocial beach bum who doesn't realize he needs help both find help. short story #22 copyright © 2016 by rosecoloredsoul. all rights reserved. cover by @robinwithouthoodie

He just sits there. On seat 31. Reading a book or listening to his music. He looks out of the window. Or looks at her. She just sits there. On seat 30. Reading a book or listening to her music. She looks out of the window. Or looks at him.

Jason is nineteen-year-old uni student with a chronic case of insomnia. Emily is a seventeen-year-old high school girl with sporadic bursts of crippling anxiety. The two live in different worlds, but when they meet at a pop-up-punk concert, Jason just can't let her go. He had tried nearly every thinkable cure for his disorder, but in the end, all it took was a mixtape, seven phone calls, and a very special girl to get Jason to sleep. Short Story #228 22/10/14 | Teen-Fiction #304 14/09/15 © belora / bee s. 2014

❝You and me,❞ he whispered, ❝until the end of time.❞ // A chronicle of Junie Bennett's birthdays from the ages of ten to twenty one.