Till Death dose us part

Till Death dose us part

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing12m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, May 23, 2017
I'm a quiet young man. I live with my best friend Riyah yet all I did was love him. All I did was love him. Now I count tell the difference between me and this shadow of a man I have become. And its all because of you. I am yours till DEATH DOSE US PART. Hay its good to see you again. My names Marcel if you don't remember, we saw each other yesterday and exchanged numbers. So about that long ass story i was telling you about. It happened in college and that's where it all started. . . This is a lover story of a boy called Marcel who is trying to find himself in the shit storm that's called his life. His mother is dead, his father is easily misunderstood and the only one he has to turn to is his best friend. Until his prince comes to rescue him from the hell he calls home. But not all is that it appears and secrets crawl into every smile and begin to eat away at reality until it all becomes a nightmare. Just one he can't escape. Then suddenly that warm, safe smile becomes soaked in blood and seeps with every lie. Only time will tell if Marcel will cope.
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~

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