(Spin-off to Steal my Heart) Melissa Richards is a slut. She drinks. She parties. She smokes. She has issues with her family and no friends. She defies everything a girl is supposed to be and ends up losing everything, including herself. But then she finds something she wasn't looking for; a new start, friendship and a little love. ••• All rights reserved® Copyright with the author.

"Let's make a deal." His lip upturned into a smirk. "Why should I?" I said, returning my own. "Because you're a writer." He stole my coffee- like he had perfectly timed this speech a thousand times. He looked me dead in the eyes. Brown against Meridian Blue. "How much cream did you put in here? Christ." I smiled and pulled it back, and took a large swig. I smirked again. "So, you were saying?" He grabbed both my hands. Stared at me again- those eyes. Meridian Blue. "Because you're a writer, " He said. And so am I." [POSTING THE FINISHED, EDITED STORY SOON]

For months Summer is trapped in a cellar with the man who took her - and three other girls: Rose, Poppy, and Violet. His perfect, pure flowers. His family. But flowers can't survive long cut off from the sun, and time is running out...

Art is a form of communication. Whether it is through music, through writing or through painting, every note you play, every word you write and every drop of paint you put on the canvas displays an emotion. For many, it is also a form of relief, a way to say everything you wish you'd say and a way to escape everything. Some paint on a daily basis, other paint on impulse. Annabelle Snow paints on impulse. To her, it is the way to paint. It shows what you truly feel, although sometimes it may reveal things you would rather forget. This is the story of a girl passionate about art, who had her fair share of misery and was left bitter by it.

This is NOT a sequel to Grey Street, only bits and pieces of their story after that day in the café. I'd highly suggest reading Grey Street first. What happens when Harry becomes the missing piece of Elle's New York story.

There really wasn't any stopping it. It wasn't my fault that my skin was as dark as the night, or my nose was broader than any other's, my hair was always rough looking and broke easily. There was nothing I could do, because to them I will and always will be, the black girl. HR: #3 Short Story Graphic by caesium-

in·fat·u·a·tion noun an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something. in which two infatuations become something more, all while battling to stay alive through the suffering of it all. [Highest Ranking: #12 in Fanfiction]