My Definition Of Perfect

My Definition Of Perfect

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jul 3, 2019
"Yeah I know I've made a lot of shitty mistakes in my life, but if every single one had to happen to make sure I was right here, right now, to meet you, then I forgive myself for all of them. I just hope that you will too" he said, almost whispering the last part. He was slowly inching closer to me, just like how he used to so very often, until our bodies are flush against one another, my stomach feeling as if millions of butterflies have been released in it. "Please" he whispers after a moment of silence, looking me straight in the eye. =+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+= WORKING PROGRESS**❌ Very slow updates~ Things may change~ Harlow is an extraordinary human being, inside and out. Beautiful, confident, and kind. Recently, Harlows father received an offer for a job in a new town, meaning the Harris' have to move to the small town of Hamilton. Attending Perkson High, Harlow became 'The New Girl' very soon. The school was small, Harlow stood out. But despite all odds, she quickly made friends and her new life was really looking up. But then the unexpected happened. Harlow met someone, a boy someone, a Christopher Jones someone. A part of the popular group someone. A someone Harlow would most likely never in her life have the courage to talk to someone. Because he was a someone and she was a no one. But what happens when that someone notices the no one. Will something spark? Or will the definition of perfect be different for that someone than for the no one.
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philip
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A seemingly ordinary high school girl prefers to stay under the radar, blending into the background of her small-town world. But everything changes when the last person she ever expected-a boy with his own complicated story-starts paying attention to her in ways she never imagined. What begins as a quiet connection soon evolves into something that challenges their perceptions of love, life, and themselves. I hope you guys like it. ~Tess~πŸ’™ ✧⁠*⁠。 Then, slowly, he leaned in again, placing soft kisses along my neck. His lips were warm, sending shivers down my spine. One of his hands glided up my thigh, stopping to rest on my hip. His breathing grew heavier, matching mine. "You always have a sweet scent when I'm near you," he murmured against my skin. "Like vanilla and cinnamon." His teeth grazed a sensitive spot on my neck, and I hummed involuntarily. My legs pressed together, trying to stifle the ache building between them. He was making me feel things I hadn't felt before-things I wasn't sure I could control. "I should-" I started, my voice faltering as I tried to regain control. "I should get you something to sober up." I quickly slipped off the table, putting space between us, but he was faster. His hand caught my wrist, and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the wall. "So?" His voice was low, almost a growl. "Must I always stay sober? I don't want anything... just you."

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