"I had to water them." She says. "They were dying." In which a girl breaks into her neighbor, Harry Styles' Malibu home, to water his dead sunflowers. - contains mature content and language

Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn't stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes. WARNING: all rights go to velvetoscar on ao3 Cover made by: whatkooloser

I was just another fan to him. I didn't think by sending that one little tweet to Niall Horan, 1/5 of the famous boy band One Direction, my life would change forever. I was nothing special. Just like any other 17 year old girl. Hands touch, eyes meet and apparently, he saw something special in me.

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.*