Them
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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 15, 2014
He had hair darker than the deepest part of the ocean, his eyes like the night sky, the stars dancing in them. His smile could melt a heart in seconds, making complete strangers lust after him. Knowing his mind was an honor; his darkest thoughts held the most raw, genuine beauty. The most important thing in his world, the light he could never let go out, was her. She was luminous, her mind ablaze with constant excitement and ideas. Her skin was like ivory, her eyes a deep blue-grey like a foggy morning on the oceanside. Her heart was warm and her smile bright, though her skin was relentlessly cold. She loved him above all else; he was her anchor, her grip on reality. They were convinced the world was made for them. The universe was centered upon their love, and they were invincible as long as their love remained. The lived under the impression that they had the love of fairy tales and stories they'd read through the years. But, not all stories have happy endings.
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"What do you want?" I snap, slamming my locker shut. His casual smirk, messy dark hair, tan skin, strong arms, eerie storm-grey eyes... the list could go on of things I notice- that I shouldn't notice- about him. "Oh, I want a lot of things." He inspects a speck of dirt on his arm. "I'm sure you've heard the news?" His eyes flicker back up to meet mine. Does he know? No. He can't. So I roll my eyes. He can't know that I know, that I would do anything to be the first one he tells. "You'll have to be more specific." I mutter, trying to look casual as I inspect my nails. "Well, it involves a certain title of the swim team," He offers. I shrug. "So you got captain. That's cool. And what do I have to do with that?" He narrows his eyes, trying to read my expression. Unfortunately for him, I have mastered the art of hiding my emotions. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. During English," He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. "I recall you trying to talk to me," I frown. "Well, I..." He swallows, seeming... nervous? "I'm not doing too great... subject wise. And if I don't pick up my ass soon, I might be forced to quit." He rubbed the back of his neck, making his shirtsleeve slide up his arm to reveal a strong bicep. Not that I notice. I narrow my eyes. "And what do I get back in return?" I cross my arms. I'm going to be late for the bus if we don't hurry. He studies my face. "Name your price." He mirrored my position. I sigh. Money... but I don't need it. Popularity... but I don't want it. I meet his gaze steadily. He lifts his chin, the tiniest bit, but it doesn't intimidate me. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. He's only just taller than me. "Stop pretending to be perfect." All rights reserved. Cover art by me :) but will probably be redone soon

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