The Hospital Princess
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Ongoing17m
Last published Thu, Jun 11, 2020
Alisa is an orphan girl who despite her young age will have to face a very hard reality in the hospital.
A subject will come into his life without any cause on the grounds of a sentence imposed for a minor crime, which must take care of her and then become her protector.
The life of both will be immersed in a list of pending things to do because her time is limited, they will do everything possible to ensure that this list is fulfilled under the complicity of some members of the hospital since they are the only family they know to date.
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I will be writing throughout these weeks to try to complete at least one chapter weekly. I am not a professional writer but an amateur who has a few things to tell. At the moment I ask for patience and respect. if you have any concerns let me know in the comments.
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THANKS:
To my friend Montaña Alberto for helping me with the form corrections, it is always good that there is a good wording ...
To my friend Valentina for taking this story to another level with her translation, thanks to her this story will have no borders ...
To my friend xxxxxxx for the cover and photos of each chapter, without this history does not have an atmosphere like it does.
All Rights Reserved
#4
complicity
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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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