Rosie Williams
- Reads 586
- Votes 22
- Parts 37
Ongoing3h 46m
Last published Tue, Nov 14, 2023
Just because I confessed my love doesn"t mean he loves me back. Just because they confessed to me doesn"t mean I love them. Just because he had those chocolate eyes doesn"t mean I still love him. Well, what I mean is, this is a rollercoaster of friendship, love, cheating, breakup, and love (Nope, this is not blankspace). The rollercoaster ride was made for me to realize few things and who I actually LOVE. Better sentence: what love actually is.
Confession: Cupid did not have any personal grudges on me.
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To fall in love with someone, you have to jump and then you fall. Maybe someone is waiting for you down there. To catch you.
It"s an excerpt from Rosie"s diary about her romance life. Three cliche governs her romance life- handsome CEO, fake boyfriend and bestfriend. She is on voyage to create her own fairytale.
Do you have the magical confidence to read my strawberry vanilla romance story?
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I do not authorise this book to be published anywhere but Wattpad. If this book is published on NovelHD.com, Teenfic.net or any other website this has been done without my permission. This means my work has been stolen.
I do not authorise this book to be copied, downloaded or changed in any way.
All Rights Reserved
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Strawberry
A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.Complete![Our Secret [Completed]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/161892870-256-k74496.jpg)
Our Secret [Completed]
[Book 2 in the Secret series] "That's not what I meant..." I chew on my lip. "Well, what the fuck did you mean then?" He shouts. "When I'm there I don't have to think about you!" I yell back. Wrong choice of words again, Sophia. I curse myself. His form immediately stands and he strides over to me, he is now inches away from me, his body is so close to mine that I am forced to take a couple of steps backwards. My back is pressed up against the window. Noah's breathing is deep but he speaks softly, "when you're there all I can think about is you." He raises his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I step around him and head for the door, "uh I'm going to go to the hospital." I pick up my bag and rush out of the door leaving Noah in the room and saving myself from doing something I would definitely regret and make me change my mind about going back to Pennsylvania. ------------ 'I love you too,' were the last words Sophia heard before she was banished from her home city and she left without a second thought. If she didn't she knew she would be in danger. A month and a half later Sophia returns as a person close to her is in critical condition in hospital. Everyone's eyes are on Sophia, and they are looking for someone to blame. Will she return to her new life and forget about New York once and for all? Or will she fit right back into the McKenzie's life as if she never left? And as for her relationship with Noah, there might be a chance for romance after all.Complete
Back Into Your Arms
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Falling into U again
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Where feet may fail
COMPLETE ✔︎ "𝑀𝑦 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡" All of a sudden when I turn to face him our faces are closer than ever. Our noses almost touching each other. "We were amazing." He whispers and I can feel his breath against my lips. We're so close. A voice in my head tells me that I shouldn't. I'm better than that. But then there's the louder voice that's so curious. Curious if he still tastes the same, if he's as good as I remember, or maybe even better. I lock eyes with him before his gaze falls to my lips. "Hayden," I whisper. He takes a step closer like we weren't already close enough. And then he slowly fills the space between us, his head dipping so his lips can meet mine. Skylar Myers lives together with her roommate Josie in New Haven. After going to Yale, she decided to stay there but it's been 6 years since she left her hometown Morro Bay on the west coast and her parents want her to visit again. Besides, her old high school friends are throwing a high school reunion. After avoiding her past for years, she finally decides to take a path down memory lane. _____________ Warning ⚠︎︎ This story contains mature content and language. Just warning you babes ;) ~Started in March 2020~ ~Finished in November 2022~ © All rights reserved. Do not copy any of this work. I don't own any of the picture/GIFS used in this bookComplete
Black Heart (GirlxGirl, lesbian)
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A scent. A scar. A slow-burning fucking romance dressed as nostalgia. It started with a fruit. Not love, not sex - a goddamn strawberry. The kind that looks like it's been kissed by every shade of red your childhood never had. He didn't share it. Didn't speak of it. Just tasted it once, and carried the ache ever since. Years later, she walked in - smelling exactly like that forgotten sweetness. Not perfume. Not fantasy. Just... truth. Sharp, quiet, terrifying truth. The kind that crawls under your skin and whispers remember me when you least want to. He lied to her face. About himself. About the million ways he'd already started unraveling. But she knew. Women like her always know. She stared at him like sin dressed in judgment - and touched his wrist like she already owned his pulse. And he? He was fucked. Because she wasn't just beautiful. She was red. That memory. That craving. And no matter how much he pretended to be in control - she was already in his bloodstream. This isn't a love story. It's a slow possession. By scent. By memory. By her. And it ends exactly how it starts - with him on his knees, and her smelling like fucking strawberries.
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