Meet the Artist
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  • Parts 1
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  • Reads 9
  • Votes 0
  • Parts 1
  • Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Aug 26, 2017
There was a girl who really spoke. Keeping everything to herself.  The only thing that expressed her was her artwork. 
- warning this will be my attempt of making a horror story -
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Being in love with your best friend isn't the ideal life situation but for Zora, it's her only life situation. Secretly harboring her feelings for her best friend, Sierra, Zora pours her emotions into her journal in the form of poetry. After years of keeping her attraction for her friend at bay and trying to deny her feelings by forcing herself to love a boy who unconditionally loves her, Zora's favorite emotional outlet becomes the cause of her life falling apart as the truth finally comes out. ***** It was happening again. It was dark, sunset, I waited for her to be done with volleyball practice 'because she was my ride'. Somehow we wandered from the gym to the football field and we were sitting at the very top of the bleachers staring at each other. Her dark hair mirrored the direction of the wind, the setting sun being replaced by the brightness of her smile. We were sitting so close I could feel her warmth. It was an unusual situation. Friends don't do this. We held eye contact for a long time before I couldn't take it anymore and just closed my eyes. It wasn't real, she was just my friend. Then, I felt her tuck a strand of my curly hair behind my ear. That with the chill of the night sent shivers down my spine and a swarm of butterflies attacked my stomach. I reopened my eyes. If she didn't want me, why did she look at me that way? I held her hand and I held it for so long because I didn't know if we'd have another moment like this. We talk and laugh and she tells me I'm pretty and I ask her if she'd just noticed that and we laugh again. I realize the feelings I felt in that moment were not just the intense feelings of attraction that I felt every time I was with her. Warmth flooded to my face and if it wasn't for my dark complexion, my blush would be noticeable. I look into her dark-colored eyes and I come to the conclusion that I'm royally fucked and I'm probably also in love.
Count to three: My affair with my dynamics professor (teacher x student) by womanonthehill
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Inés walked briskly towards the university, the chilly morning air nipping at her skin, but her mind was far from the cold. She cradled the cup Frida had made for her, the warmth seeping into her palm, but it was the lingering taste of their conversation that really kept her attention. The flirtation had been obvious, and yet, Inés couldn't help but feel the pull. She had tried, time and time again, to remind herself that this wasn't right. She was her professor, after all. Frida was a student-too young, too free, too vibrant to be caught up in something like this. And yet, it was hard to ignore the way Frida's words had slid under her skin. Too good. Frida had a way with words, a way of making Inés feel seen in a way she rarely did. The playful banter, the spark in her eyes-Frida had turned the simplest moments into something electric, something dangerous. It was almost too easy for Inés to let her guard slip, to smile just a little too much, to let the conversation linger longer than necessary. She cursed herself for it, for the weakness she felt around Frida. Too intelligent, too beautiful. Inés sighed softly, letting the wind tug at her coat as she walked. Frida was brilliant, and so full of life-it made Inés feel as though she was just a spectator, watching someone else live in full color. It was that brilliance that made her ache. Frida was everything she wasn't, everything she hadn't been in a long time. And that was what made it so impossible to ignore her. Inés sat down at her desk, the familiar buzz of exam day settling over the room as her students began working. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to focus on the papers in front of her. But her mind kept wandering back to the morning. She took a brief moment to glance at her cup, now sitting in front of her. It wasn't until her eyes fell on the side of the cup that she froze. "Special drink for a special woman - F."
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