𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧, 𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐍

"𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙤𝙬,"
"𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮'𝙨 𝙝𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙, 𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚?"
"𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚." -the neighbourhood

hadley wallace-wells has always loved. she loves a lot, maybe too much. she has been dancing through life, through every mess her family has been through, for as long as she can remember.

she dances to forget. to make it stop hurting.

her father never recovered after gibsie's dad died, slipping deeper into drinking while her mom tried to keep everyone in line, leaving hadley to hold herself together.

gibsie has always been there, a constant. they've grown up together-they know each other. and for him, she can let herself laugh, tease, spin through the air-but never let him see the shadows she hides, the weight she carries. she's too busy worrying about him, wanting to take care of him, be there for him, be perfect. he's all bright smiles and sunlit energy, but she can see the shadows behind his grin.

somewhere between the laughter, the teasing, and quiet cinnamon-scented nights, they'll have to figure out if two people holding pieces of broken hearts can keep spinning together without falling apart.