I know many boys. And many boys know me. They should, because I'm crazy. I'm crazy in a bed.
I've got so many hobbies. For example: being popular, helpful, confident, organised, hot or sexy, smart, good at sex, etc.
I'm not mean - I'm polite
I'm not a liar - I'm honest
I'm not bad - I'm a good person.
I am who I want to be. I am a daughter, a friend, a student, a pharmacist, a sister, the girl in their beds, me. The girl who wants to be HIS. HIS or HIS?
That's who I am.
I'm Amaranthine.
It's clearly hard to fall in love with someone when you don't know you're already falling.
It's harder to fall in love with someone whom you know wouldn't take the chance of falling in love with you back.
And it's the hardest to just keep the feeling away, to distance yourself to that certain person you're in love with.
~~*~~
No matter who you are, where you're from and how fucking hot you are... Confessing to that someone you really like would be the hardest.
CAUTION: This story slightly includes butt touching, perverting, and hot make outs. Read at your own risk.
When their worlds -- the flawed but still perfect world-- collides, memories will be created, Memories will be reminisced and most of all, Memories will be lived.
Highest accomplishment (so far) - #288 Teen Fiction