I'm No Different, Just Ordinary (One Direction Fan Fiction)

I'm No Different, Just Ordinary (One Direction Fan Fiction)

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WpMetadataReadOngoing3h 30m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Nov 1, 2013
Life is a bit unfair when your parents told you on the first day of summer that instead of having 'an-expensive-summer- tour-with-a-cruise' while meeting biggest celebrities that your parents promised they will take you; you'll end up in an old-boring 'farm' where your father grew up. Well you wouldn't be glad either; if not only summer is the only thing you control over. Brianna Gibson had almost everything 'til her parents lost it. After finding out that her new style of having summer was in a farm or so-out-of-civilization-and-life she was almost at the brink of dying. Being on a detestable state in life, inevitable summer, myriads of miles away from life used to be, and an ineffable agony, will she, despite these things be able to have the best summer of all in history of all summers? Well actually; having summer in a farm is not that bad; if you 'accidentally' met five hottest boys that ever existed here on Earth BUT would Brianna get along with the world's biggest boyband; One Direction? A Normal summer? Oh no.
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† 𝔩𝔦π”ͺ𝔒𝔯𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔒 /Λˆπ”©Ιͺπ”ͺə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ π”žπ”‘π”§π”’π” π”±π”¦π”³π”’: π”ž 𝔣𝔒𝔳𝔒𝔯𝔒𝔑 π”°π”±π”žπ”±π”’ 𝔬𝔣 π”ͺ𝔦𝔫𝔑 π”Ÿπ”¬π”―π”« 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬π”ͺπ”žπ”«π”±π”¦π”  π”£π”¦π”΅π”žπ”±π”¦π”¬π”«; π”ͺπ”žπ”―π”¨π”’π”‘ π”Ÿπ”Ά π”¬π”Ÿπ”°π”’π”°π”°π”¦π”³π”’ 𝔱π”₯𝔬𝔲𝔀π”₯𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔀𝔦𝔫𝔀 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔒π”ͺπ”¬π”±π”¦π”¬π”«π”žπ”© 𝔯𝔒𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔢, π”žπ”«π”‘ π”žπ”« π”žπ” π”₯𝔦𝔫𝔀 𝔑𝔒𝔭𝔒𝔫𝔑𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢; ∴ 𝔑𝔒𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔑𝔯𝔒𝔰𝔰𝔒𝔑 𝔦𝔫 𝔑𝔒𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.

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