"Hi." -It's a short, simple word. But it's how love starts. --- Book 1: Five Dirty Little Secrets --- All copyrights reserved. If you find this book anywhere else please report it, and send me a link. ---

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.*

"You make me feel things, Niall Horan." I said, looking down. I couldn't bring myself to look up at his face. "Why are you saying it as if it's the worse thing that has ever happened to you?" He asks softly. "Because how did this happen? How did you make me feel all these things just under 6 months? It makes no sense. I was not supposed to fall so fast for you. For heaven's sake, I met you in a night club just barely three months ago! Do you know how crazy our story sounds like? What the fuck are we doing?" I asked, running my fingers through my hair. I still haven't looked at him. I can't bring myself to look at it. "Why does it fucking matter, Iz? People fall in love and fall out of love so quickly everyday. So, what? Time shouldn't limit us." He says while staring at me. I felt the intensity of his stare and finally looked up at him. // brief summary on first page of the book :)

When I say all, I mean all. {n.h.} All rights reserved. UNDER EDITING