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Happily Ever After
Books. There what have kept me believing in Happily Ever After. Even after what happened. They allow me to keep hanging onto the thin string, even when I'm at the point where my hands are getting blisters from holding on to long. Even when I"m just ready to give up. On life. On love. Then you walked through the door. I remember it was a Thursday. The sun was shinning, like it was saying " I'm here and I'm not going anywhere" unlike most people in my life. You were looking for Jane Austen. Your sisters favorite book. I helped you. A lot of things happened in that 30 minute time span. Flirting, giggling, blushing. And that was just you. You left without me ever knowing your name. I didn't see you again till two weeks later. Another Thursday. Except it was raining. Obnoxiously hard. The shop was empty. Wait. Let me rephrase that. The street was empty. Then you came stumbling in. Soaked from head to toe. Smiling. Like a big idiot. You didn't let me get out a single word before your mouth covered mine. Hands tangled into hair, lips connected like no other. It was passionate, sweet, completely and utterly perfect. Your tongue swept against my lips, begging for entrance. And I did something surprising. I let you. You made me feel things I didn't know was possible for me to feel. It turned to soft pecks here and there. Both of us trying to regain our breath. No one spoke for what felt like forever. The only sound was our matching breath. You whispered your name in my ear, running shivers through my body. I'm Dylan. You tried to apologize but I didn't let you finish. My lips were already back on yours, needing to taste you again. Needing your arms around my waist. I hadn't known what had gotten into me. I closed the shop early, and for the rest of the night, we spent it eating Chinese take out and learning more and more about each other. You tell me about your abusive dad and your 13 year old sister. I tell you about my parents break up and how I had to grow up at the age of 10. I learnt that were your left handed, and that you had never eaten a fried Oreo. I show you all of my favorite books and even let you glimpse at the book I was writing. For once in my life I didn't think about what was going to happen tomorrow. All I knew was that at this moment Happily Ever After didn't seem that far away after all.
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Everyones Happily Ever After is different. Its YOUR decision how it plays out. You are the author. So write.