Remembering Bridget O'Brien

Remembering Bridget O'Brien

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación dom, oct 26, 2014
He looked at me in a way that I couldn't help but smile, I wanted him to go away but he never left and then he said something I didn't except. "I won't give up on you Bridget O'Brien this is only the beginning" he said with a playful smirk on his, and I knew I was in trouble. Bridget O'Brien Was destined to die when she was born, cursed with a rare form of brain cancer she is lucky to make it passed 25 she has only seven years to live, she refuses to really get close to anyone beside her best friend who doesn't have a clue at all, but that all changes when the new guy Benjamin O'Reily comes to her history class and is partnered up with her for the whole year.
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~

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