Story cover for Oblivion (Harry Styles) by harrys_mermaid_94
Oblivion (Harry Styles)
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    LECTURAS 83,043
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    Partes 37
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    Hora 2h 9m
  • WpView
    LECTURAS 83,043
  • WpVote
    Votos 2,677
  • WpPart
    Partes 37
  • WpHistory
    Hora 2h 9m
Concluida, Has publicado abr 09, 2015
Contenido adulto
She wanted someone to hold her. He needed someone to hold.
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** Violet Bennett lives under the weight of a name she barely understands. Surrounded by secrets and lies, she's trained to survive. But when the lines between real and fake blur, Violet begins to realize that nothing in her world is as it seems. Every truth is layered in deception, and protection always comes at a cost. Sometimes that cost is your voice. Sometimes it's your freedom. And sometimes it's your heart. Always nearby is Harry Styles, mysterious, sharp, cold and a constant reminder that danger is closer than she thinks. Covered in tattoos and silence, he watches like he knows something she doesn't. And naybe he does. There's something between them. She feels it in the silence, in the way his anger feels personal, in the quiet moments that say more than words ever could. But love, if that's what this is, has no place in a world built on secrets. And falling for someone like him might mean losing everything. Because in this world, love isn't soft. It's a weapon. And Violet is already in the crossfire. *** "You shouldn't smoke." The voice cut through me before I even processed it. I spun around instinctively, heart racing. And there he was. I blinked. "Holy shit. You scared me." He didn't move. Didn't even flinch. "Didn't know I had to announce myself." "How long have you been up here?" He looked away, back out over the skyline. "A while." "You're always hiding," I muttered. "And you always follow." ** 04/05/25 -
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It's been a while since I've last seen him, and just the mere mention of this man's presence makes the blood in my veins sing. I can almost hear his voice calling my name. "Aurelia...." he'd slowly drag, his tongue licking his lips each time before pulling into a sinful smirk. "My muse...you have complete control of me, you know that, don't you?" I shudder at the memory, recalling the intensity of his green gaze. He'd always call me his muse, his inspiration. His golden girl. My mouth runs dry. I want nothing to do with this man; so why is it that my body disobeys me? Why is it that goosebumps rise on my skin at the thought of seeing him again? *mature and explicit content*