Story cover for Wanderlust by httpsalize
Wanderlust
  • WpView
    Reads 152
  • WpVote
    Votes 19
  • WpPart
    Parts 12
  • WpHistory
    Time 55m
  • WpView
    Reads 152
  • WpVote
    Votes 19
  • WpPart
    Parts 12
  • WpHistory
    Time 55m
Ongoing, First published Dec 27, 2018
Mature
🔅Seren Lawrence, a girl of simplicity and serenity. Luka Reid, a boy of deep thoughts and winding roads. Seren dressed in red flannels and dock martins and Luka dressed in jean jackets and combat boots. So different, yet so similar.🔅

🔅Seren was known around school as the good girl. Her father, being a rich and powerful man, had high expectations for her. And like a good girl she followed them. Except for when she was alone. She was always the good girl who did good girl thing, but that changed when she met Luka Reid.🔅

🔅Luka Reid was famous around the school. Always in trouble. Students at Northridge High called him the Bad Boy. Being Southside born and raised, that was expecteded. He was always the bad boy who did bad boy things. And that continued, even after he met Seren Lawrence.🔅

🔅Luka and Seren. Seren and Luka. No one knew why they were drawn to one another. Why Luka had such an interest to Seren was a mystery to everyone. But what they all knew was Seren got into Luka's old camaro and was gone with the wind the next morning.🔅

🔅Luka and Seren, Seren and Luka. They never had time to get to know one another before they were gone that night. Away with the colorful leaves of the fall. Him and her, her and him against the world together.🔅
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VELOCITY

8 parts Ongoing Mature

She steps around me, hips swaying like a predator's, her helmet fixed forward but her voice stalking me like a shadow. Slowly, deliberately, she slides one gloved hand down the metal tab of her fireproof suit. Her fingers curl around the zipper by her throat. With a tug, it dips lower over her chest. Not just a few inches, no, all the way. The neckline plunges into shadow, nothing hiding the fact that she's crossed the line from race-ready to reckless. From fierce to fucking dangerous. I lean in, my other hand rising. I press my fingers to the collar of her suit. Right at the edge where the zipper ends. Her breath catches, and even through the helmet, I hear it. "You wanna flirt, fine," I say. "But if you're going to look death in the eye and laugh, you better be ready for someone to call your bluff." I drag the zipper back up. "Maybe I want someone to call it," She says silkily. I don't let go of her wrist. Instead, I lean just a little closer, my voice barely a thread. "Then stop hiding behind helmets." -------------------------------------------- Even through the thick smoke, the helmet, through the roar of the engines- he sees her. Not 𝙀𝙡𝙤𝙞𝙨𝙚, the composed girl with the gentle eyes and kind smile. 𝙑𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮. The ghost who races like a warning, the myth with steel in her veins. The one who's been haunting the streets and humiliating his crew, one win at a time. And he's obsessed.