"The worst thing about a disability is that people see it before they see you." Started: May 29th, 2017 Finished: June 28th, 2017 Currently Editing

Elle Grey doesn't need anyone. She only needs herself, a paintbrush, and if she gets desperate enough, there are the few people she actually tolerates that she can talk to. She knows that there's more out there in the world - in fact, she spends most of her time either daydreaming or painting about it. She knows that the South Dakotan town she's grown up in is only suffocating her. That's why she finds Harry so intriguing. He's different and he brings out something in her that she wasn't sure was still there. Suddenly she's second-guessing everything she has known her entire life - maybe she does need someone.

BEST RANKINGS: #1 - onedirection #1 - harrystyles 2x #1 - harryfanfic #1 - harrystylesashimself 2x #1 - onedirectionasthemselves #1 - harryedwardstyles #1 - alexandradaddario One-night stands were atypical for her, but habitual for him. Music was a passion they shared in different forms. She was taking a break from love. He had never loved anyone before. The night their paths crossed changed their lives forever. He would mend a soul battered by great loss. She would teach a man what real love feels like. Both hold the power to shatter each other's hearts. Music will mark every single step of their journey.

A shy boy who sees beauty in everything he lays eyes on, and a confident girl who doesn't believe in love, finding common ground in the world of art. tw.

*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowers his eyes at me as he backs me up against the wall, the red lighting only making him look more menacing "You wanted the bad guy Abby? Wanted the villain?" My heart his running a hundred mile an hour when my breathing hitches in my throat as his hand comes up to wrap his long fingers tight around my jaw forcing me to look him in the eye. "Well now you've got him" He leans his face close to mine, his voice dropping to a low warning murmur that has my stomach hitting the floor. "...Run little mouse" *** BOOK STARTED JULY 1 2019 COMPLETED JULY 2021

Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*