Sweet Nothings...

Sweet Nothings...

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WpMetadataNoticePublikasi terakhir Sab, Mei 25, 2013
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He walked swiftly towards me, and placed his hands on my waist. I swayed my hips and added extra movements. ' Don't do that,' Stefan murmured. I looked at him in question, before he leaned in to explain. 'Swaying your hips like that and looking so beautiful is a negative point- all the boys have eyes on you, and I don't like it one bit' he muttered. I smiled softly, and inclined forward. 'Don't worry. Right now, only one boy has my attention and he has me in his arms' I replied to him. He smiled in satisfaction, tightening his hold on my waist, pulling me closer. Isabella Williams, is a young 17 year old living with her distant father. Rich, beautiful, smart. She has it all; she is it all. Isabella's mother died in a car crash a year ago. The start of all problems... Read how Isabella's life changes when she attends the oh-so-famous Harold Boarding School, and see's him. The only person who causes her heartbeat to race, brings the red tint in her cheeks, makes her palms sweat whenever she see's him, for the first time in 17 years, Isabella feels something...all because of him. Stefan.
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There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

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