persian buttercups

persian buttercups

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, mar 22, 2020
"Nice tattoo." I swallow thickly, glancing at him and then down at the little red tattoo on the inside of my wrist. I'm surprised that he even noticed it. "Oh thanks. It's a.." "Ranunculus flower. Also known as Persian buttercups." I smile at him, impressed. However, Mystery Guy continues to stare at me with a stony expression. "Hey thanks for..." But he's already gone, walking off down the hallway before I can say thank you for opening my locker. I scoff, rolling my eyes at his retreating figure. Rude much? ------ To say that Cora Abbott and Archer Reid started off on the wrong foot would be an understatement. But as fate would have it, these two troubled teens may have more in common than they originally thought...
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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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