Ángel y yo ,una historia de dos
- Reads 44
- Votes 5
- Parts 5
Dicen que todos tenemos angeles guardianes ,Ángeles que nosl protogen ,que nos cuidan de que no hagamos alguna pendejada o estupides ....bueno aunque ..parece que el mío está igual o más imbecil que yo .
Aquí narró mi historia con Ángel (no mi Ángel , Se llama Ángel ,así ,corto ) mis vivencias ,mis continuas aventuras con el ...espero lo disfruten
Todo esto es real , Ángel ,yo ..quizás cambio algunos nombres para mantener la privacidad , sin más que decir espero disfruten .
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Paris. The city of lights. The city of love. The city where Samuel Gavin Hernandez is located. Working in a small corner coffee shop, his job wasn't all that bad. Besides inhaling the smoke of men outside the shop and the annoying flirty baristas he had to keep in check, his job motivated his life. He was working there to be able to raise enough money to fly to America, specifically where his sister Olivia Hernandez lived. After receiving news that his condition was getting better, Sam could almost see his future. Almost. If it wasn't for trying to earn money and working late shifts for said money, his condition would have stayed the same. But now, he had to make a choice. Leave work and live a better life. Or, keep working, live with his sister, but possibly risk the idea of a home. Sam doesn't want to make this decision. As time flies past him, he lets a girl he usually serves at the shop stay with him at his apartment because she ran away from her rich family. Noticing how he differs from others, she offers him help. She has a dream to work as a famous designer in America, and if the two worked together, they'd both get what they want. This is a book of an adolescent trying to find a home, no matter the cost; life or limb, danger or abandonment. But what if something interfered with their story? Would he find his home? Would she find her freedom? We wouldn't know. And with that, let's get the story going, shall we? Let's find home. ~~~ Fuck. I promised after my bitch ex that I wouldn't fall. But guess who's been pushed off the cliff? This stupid little shit. "Though," Rebecca continued, her left hand to her mouth to hold in a giggle, "you don't seem like a romantic type. So, I hope I've fallen righteously." As I looked down at her, my gaze lowered to stare at her beautiful eyes. My hand moved to hold hers, our fingers lacing together. I hope so too.
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