Bella's Hunt
- Reads 4,933
- Votes 555
- Parts 96
Ongoing15h 8m
Last published Mon, Feb 24, 2020
I stare down at the stupid boy who came crawling through my window. His body drops on the ground and he rolls over, still not seeing me.
"Ugh." He stands up and dusts the snow off of his ass. "Fuck.." He hisses. I stand behind him, still wearing my coat and boots and holding my duffel bag. He finally turns to me and stops in his steps. "Bella?" He asks with wide eyes.
"Hunter..." My voice is shaky and dry. "Why are you breaking into my room?"
"Well... It technically isn't breaking in since your window wasn't locked."
. . .
West View senior, Isabella Wilder finds herself in a predicament when her childhood best friend/crush moves back home after being gone for two years.
Hunter Stone was West View's biggest bad boy before he'd left, without a goodbye to anyone, and still is when he returns.
After leaving West View without a goodbye, he hurt all of his friends, but Isabella was wounded the most. Because he was her best friend and the love of her life. And now that he's back, he won't stop trying to win her back.
But as his best friend? Or as something else?
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#982
blake
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There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.
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