*y'all DON'T READ THIS. i wrote this at thirteen. you've been warned.* "Harry, it's been rumored that if you have a daughter you would name her Darcy. Any particular reason why?" The interviewer asked. I gulped and glanced down at my feet, not wanting to talk about the girl that I had lost. "Um, yeah, actually." I...
- because this moment simply is -
Was it her beauty that reeled me in? The mysterious, deep, color her eyes contained? Or her addictive smile, smell, or even her personality? It was none of these things. The reason she's too afraid and too sad to even talk is what made her even more mysterious and captivating to me. Not talking for six years as a side...
Zayn is 19, he's been 19 for 211 years. Avery is 18, about to be 19. They are destined for each other. Zayn has been watching, waiting, wanting. Finally, he gets his chance. She has no idea how long he's been waiting for her.