Colours

Colours

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WpMetadataReadMaduroEm andamento12m
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima atualização dom, jul 31, 2016
This is the sequel to my previous book Untitled story. So if you haven't read that then the start of this may confuse you. Colours to me are more than they are to others. They mean emotions, memories, good and bad. My life gets better and worse. Will Sam stay with me or will we end it because of distance?
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The story is complete. If you are searching for something which is not just romance, but emotions and a lot of drama, this is the right book for you. I'm attempting to write something unconventional, exploring not just the love life of these characters, but their history, their family and their bond together. ***** He took a seat by the kitchen counter. With the cream coloured shirt on, he looked so much like, like he belonged here. Like, he was all, mine. I could stand by the kitchen counter and stare at him forever. How cute and innocent he looks. How can I not be selfish when it comes to such a lovely balloon of happiness. How can I let him go for Tara? I can't. I simply can't. I served the dinner on two plates and we sat down eating. Every now and then, I kept looking at Abhaas. He's as much a friend to Tara as he's to me, maybe a little more than a friend to me but he's also a friend who wishes to help her. I'm being the low, loathsome nasty human being that is keeping him all to myself while he can go out to help her. How selfish am I? He's this precious jewel that I'm keeping captive. He's the golden bird in the cage of my friendship. I have no right to take away his right to fly. He should go out, see more trees, play with more flowers, maybe soar high in the sky to reach the stars, his star, his Tara. Sunshine is something he doesn't need, he doesn't need Ahana. He needs, night... darkness. Darkness that illuminates numerous stars that are awaiting his presence. A faint voice fell on my ears as Abhaas side hugged me. It's late, he's going back home. He left the house, the house of first ray of sunshine, to welcome the night, the darkness, the absence of sunlight. Do read my book Forever: The cream sweater

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