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The rollercoaster of life

The rollercoaster of life

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Mon, Jan 1, 20242h 28m
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Fiction
Romance
Adenna is eighteen years old and lives with her mom, she live right across from someone she says she's hates, even though they used to be best friends, that were incepreble. She says she hates him while he doesn't care and teases her. She's been keeping her distance while he keeps his eye on her whenever he is not with his gang, not liking the choices that she's been making. He will set her free from the chains that she is being forced to wear but that's just where her up and down rollercoaster will start. "Maybe next time you won't sneak out with a man ten years older than you" he whispers with a smile "No he is literally four years old then me I am an adult now so just back off my dating life has no concern with you," I say and he chuckles "Oh Adenna we both know that's not true," he says "Oh I see he's just a fuck buddy wow I didn't think you'd want someone to be your fuck buddy" he chuckles "Yeah well it wasn't really a choice" I snap and his eyes widen. "What does that mean" he growls "Who's your dad," he asks and I feel a shiver go down my spine "What happened to us" he whispers "Never leave me again" he whispers hugging me
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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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