In a dance of fate, our hearts entwined, a bond so strong, a friendship so true. Eight years of moments, nine years of time, a decade approaching, yet hearts still aligned.
Memories galore, a treasure trove of time, moments with him, forever etched in my mind. Perhaps we were meant to be, just best friends true, a bond of friendship, pure and strong, nothing more to pursue.
I'm writing these books, a therapeutic release, a way to let go, a heart's slow ease. Into the unknown, our paths may diverge and part, but in these pages, our story will forever reside, a work of art.
He looks at me with a curious gaze, and asks, 'Will you be Jasmine?'"
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He'd never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she'd say every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other.
She'd never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find that, whether he likes it or not.
It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites.
~~~
"You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing.
He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl.
He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away.
"You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering.
"I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk.
~~~
*Warning*
This story contains mature themes (language, scenes, etc.)