Miguel Hernandez has known a few things well: the cushion of an older brother rising to stardom, basketball and sex. His reputation's whispered from the luxury corners of the Upper East Side, spanning over New York City. Debauchery's come to be his middle name. Girls are rarely pictured leaving his side. A comfortable, familiar routine that he doesn't stray from, nor does anyone expect him to. Until her. Eyes that harbour secrets, a tongue sharp enough to cut, passions she's given up and a darkness bearing on her shoulders, Malibu Adams knows nothing but survival. Unapologetic about the trail of messes she leaves behind or the anger festering within her that will only set her on one ruinous path, love had never been on her radar. Nobody knows her enough to understand her nor the pain seeping from wounds she disregards. Until he becomes desperate to. She breaks everything she touches, they say - he isn't afraid to bleed.

{𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 𝘛𝘞𝘖 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘠} The perfect picture of elegance. It's all Violet Amory's known - the foundation of the image she must preserve. For her, for them. Raised in a distinguished family and moulded to bear modest smiles and tender caresses, the grace she's renowned for is what she's come to accept. Stifling this innate need that nobody in her worlds seems to hold: for more. For thrill and the world beyond. Contained within the weight of reputation and hiding the hurt that lingers, the bruises she masks. Until him. The picture of wildness and impulse, with a devious grin she can't seem to stop herself from falling towards. And a heart all too enticing, Everest and Violet battling the world around them that ordains them to be apart. Misfits, in their own separate worlds. all my love <3

{𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 𝘖𝘕𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘓𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘛𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘠} Ria Romano knew hurt like the back of her hand. She was dealt her fair share of bad cards, more than anyone so young should have to face. A cynical girl riddled with the remnants of her past, a shattered sort of soul. She concealed like it was second nature; her instinct being to suppress. She'd offer you a cigarette with a shrug while you were crying because she never was too great with affection. She didn't smile so often but when she did and it was directed at you, you'd never feel such satisfaction. I was told Aria preferred to be alone, isolated; clouding her mind with inhales of her cigarette and drowning it in alcohol. Until she was dealt her good card, out of the pack of bad. They had a love beautiful enough to last a lifetime, the type directors desire to capture and authors aspire to write. Two souls, shattered by the cruelty of the world time and time again with flames that rekindled each others. They were each other's oxygen. They breathed life back into each other, those two insomniacs. <3