"Please don't go." "I'm sorry." "I hate you." "Can we go somewhere?" "I forgive you." "Do you actually love me?" "I don't want to be here anymore." "I fucking love you." "I'm sorry." "Please stay." These were things said often between the two. They were so enthralled in each other. They couldn't get enough. Skin to skin wasn't close enough. Kissing constantly. Driving with hands gripping thighs. Hands tangled in hair. Nails clawing backs. Eyelashes brushing cheeks. Heads resting on chests. They wanted nothing more than to crawl into each other, and never come out. Say goodbye to the rest of the world and crawl away into their own. They loved each other so much that hand holding and neck kissing wasn't enough. Sex wasn't nearly as close as they'd like to be. They wrapped limbs through limbs and never wanted to let go. They couldn't stop. But minutes feel like hours spent apart. They spent hours in each other's arms. Listening to music, driving, singing, loving, living. They couldn't bare time apart. She was obsessed with him and he was in love with her. They romanticised each other. They wrote poetry and songs and lyrics and melodies about each other. He was hers and she was his. They belonged to each other. They smoked together and drank together and they couldn't stop. Maybe it was unhealthy. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was toxic, doomed to end badly. Maybe it'd kill them. (Maybe the drugs would.) Maybe they were being dangerous. Maybe this would be the death of them. But they didn't care. *smut warning in quite a few chapters lmaoo* published 2015

"You're a good girl, do you know that?" He exhaled deeply with a disbelieving smile, pulling me to lie next to him. "Which is probably why I find you so hot. Those innocent eyes, fuck. I was done for. I always have been." "You don't mean that." I laughed, clambering beneath the sheets. "Ah, always so skeptical. But I mean it, your eyes are it for me. This magical emerald green that shines in the sunlight, and almost changes colour when you're talking about something you love. Like that fucking creative writing class you take with George. Your eyes, they shimmer and it's weird as shit but I love it. They remind me of the first day of spring, the sort of green that emerges from a really shit winter. The green that reminds you that everything is growing, and you're growing, and you're alive. That is what I love about your eyes." Matty half laughed to himself, climbing in after me. He cupped my cheek, stroking slightly with his thumb. "That and they look amazing when you're giving head." "Stop!" I laughed, batting him away. He pulled me in closer however, close enough so that my head was forced to rest on his chest and I could hear the steady beat of his heart. "It's true. Nothing like these old boring brown eyes of mine." "Boring? Nothing about you is boring." I whispered, tracing the lines of his chest tattoo. "How so?" -------- Avery Collins, an 18 year old university student, has her world turned upside down by the arrival of a boy with messy hair, chocolate eyes and a past full of dark secrets. Juggling a social life, her insane room mates, uni studies and work, will she be able to cope with this boy and the realisation that maybe, just maybe, he was more dangerous than he looked? [ONGOING BOOK] Proud to be part of the Wattpad Futures Programme. ---PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT--- Cover by @PGthequeen