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.*

"So what do we do?" "We can work something out. There's just one problem... We can't let your brother find out." ❁ Available now to order! Link in bio!

"I'll kiss you here," Harry said pointing to Alicia's lips and then his finger trailing down her neck. Harry saw her close her eyes and he couldn't help but smirk. She was just too innocent. "And then...." she breathes. "And then...." Harry hums and presses his body against hers. "I will do this." Harry puts both his hands in her hair and crashes their lips together. After several seconds he pulls back, gives himself a head shake and smiles at his student. "Thats it for now." With that Harry strides away from her, but that wouldn't be the last time.

"Sasquatch" is our sex code. We first decided to use a code word so that we could hookup in public places without people catching on to what we were doing. However, that seemed to fail because they still seemed to make the connections between us calling Sasquatch and then seeing us later walk out of a bathroom with disheveled clothes and messy hair. ... The typical ~best~friends with benefits fall in love type of story. *CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT*