Description
"Who am I to you then?" he gives a cute, sly grin before teasingly nipping my nape, his dark hair tickling me, inhaling the trace of his cologne that I knew all too well. "My god", I breathed out, looking into his viridian eyes intensely, desperately kissing him, wishing that I had more time - more time to spend with him. Wishing deliriously that this moment would last forever. My one condition that he would easily relieve this memory. Memory of us. Something dripped down my cheek. Tears? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ They're both popular - both because of their looks; one needs saving from herself, the voices in her mind that's suffocating her. The other just needs saving from the loneliness that he feels, even when in the large, exclusive circle we call popularity. Beautifully broken, and tragically separated. A sappy, clichéd romance.
Prologue
