Smells Like Winter
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"Don't touch me, your hands are cold."
Maddy Wesley was your typical 17-year-old high school student, a wallflower with excellent grades, a good taste for vanilla ice cream and a normal, somewhat dull life.
Until a virus broke out. A virus that brought winter back in the heart of London.
And there she is now, stuck in detention for the first time in her entire life because she was late to school on the very day the students were supposed to get vaccinated.
Yes, vaccinated. But there's something menacing about the way the school nurse shoves the pointy syringe in each student's skin, something that makes Maddy's hair stand on edge. Something that tells her to run.
"Run."
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His hand shifts under my sweater cuff, sliding up to my forearm. ''Tell me you don't feel it.'' I brush my fingers over his collarbones, just above the worn edge of his shirt. Beneath it, I feel the faint shift of muscle, the stutter in his breathing. He kisses me hot and hard. Like a collapse, His hands slide under my clothes to my neck and my hair where they make fists. My scalp prickles. He lets me taste a future with him, to feel it in the thrust of his tongue and bite of his teeth. I'm panting, and aching, and still, we know this won't change anything. Still, he kisses me bruised. ππ π©πππ£π π¨ π‘π€π«π ππ¨ π¨πͺππππ§ππ£π π¨ππ π©πππ£π π¨ π¨ππ πππ¨ππ§π«ππ¨ ππ© BOOK ONE C O N T A I N S : β€οΈ sexual/mature content β€οΈ violence/abuse/trauma β€οΈ flawed characters (and development) Copyright Β© 2018-present Laurel Montaze (immoralLaurel). This body of work (story, characters, ideas) is available exclusively on Wattpad. If you're viewing it on a different website/platform or under a different username, it has been illegally stolen. Please notify the original author. Cover art: me Β© All Rights Reserved
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