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!

[ COMPLETED ] Neither of them knew one night could change everything. ✼ ✼ ✼ For mature audiences only. Story contains sexual content and vulgar language so read at your own risk! COPYRIGHT © 2015, stylescloud All rights reserved, please don't copy and/or steal my story!

It was the summer of 1989 in Paris, France when Bellerose and Harry first met. In which a girl who works at a strawberry field in the summer and a library in the off seasons, and a boy who writes songs, poems, short stories and paints all year round, meet unexpectedly on one hot summer afternoon in a strawberry field. All Rights Reserved to harryartwork, 2017 ©

Abscond (verb): to leave hurriedly and secretly, typically to avoid detection of or arrest for an unlawful action such as theft. // "They had to run, run for their lives." WARNING: Extremely explicit sexual content and language. Only read if you are comfortable with mature content. All Rights Reserved to harryartwork, 2016 ©

*Mature and Explicit Content* "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?" ---------- I watch as Harrys breathing shallows, his eyes glazing over as his brows furrow "You really want that?" I nod without missing a beat, assuring him "I really do, is that okay with you?" "Fuck Joey, how wouldn't it be okay with me? There's no way I could possibly say no to that, I just can't believe that's what you want" he strains out, the worry in his face being washed over with a drunk look in his eyes. I hold my breath, pulling myself up to look down at him, trailing my eyes down his bare torso and back to his face as I feel excitement I've never felt before jolt through me "Well I do, so show me Harry, show me what feels good for you" ---------- Book Started : DEC 2018 - ONGOING

*CONTAINS MATURE AND EXPLICIT CONTENT* Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying? ~•~~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ Preview: "Do you think, if you jumped from this roof - it'd feel like falling or flying?" I ask, keeping up with our theme of asking random useless questions that we've been going back and forth with for the past half hour. I stare at my feet swinging back and forth, looking down at the alleyway behind the building; pondering the question over in my head that I often wonder too much about. I glance over to Harry when he doesn't answer straight away and he's watching me with a look I can't read. "Unless you were a bird or could fly, it would just feel like falling. Because you'd know you were going to hit the ground" he decides to answer, staring at me like he's somewhat bothered that I asked him that. I look back down at the ground, and shrug my shoulders, "I think if you didn't care about hitting the ground it could feel like flying for a few seconds." ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~ STARTED 11TH MARCH 2019 - ONGOING

"Looks like you're his next victim." "Jesus Nova, didn't your mum ever warn you about creatures like me?! I'm not good for you and I'll end up ruining you or killing you!" He wasn't human. There was nothing human about him. His blood was cold and his eyes were full of angst, but Nova needed him in ways she never knew....and she thinks he needed her too. ---------- 21 year old Nova rethinks everything when she thinks she meets the cold and emotionless Harry Styles for the first time. She comes to find out her biggest secret is connected to him in ways she couldn't even imagine. Not only do they both need help, but they need to help each other remember there's a glimmer of hope down at the bottom of the bottle. Will loneliness really help stop the suffering, or will it only torture you into digging a deeper and darker hole inside your brain? ---------- Contains sexual content as well as trigger subjects

Alexis chose the summer of 1996 to visit her Nonna in small, poorly known Clarkesville, Georgia. This year happens to be her favorite. Because a certain guy with ripped flannels, loose thick curls, and piercing green eyes won not only his thrilling illegal drag-races, but won the best trophy of them all. Her heart. [will contain mature content and much, much fluff]