Hi, darling! I guess it wouldn't end here yet. XD Heads up for another chapter, and let's see if it will really end there. Love ya! ~Brey
*Sydney Roswell's POV*—"What? No! I don't know what the heck you are talking about, Oj. You know what? Let's take some snacks downstairs. Let's just figure out what to do with this one later tonight or tomorrow." I renounced and asserted as I really wanted to escape from being cornered by her."Oh, no! Where are you going, Sydee? We're not yet done here. You said you'll take a break after editing the 70th chapter. We are going nowhere but here, My Love." She teased and held my chin with her right hand, making me face her, but I tried to avoid eye contact."No! Did I say that? Well, I've changed my mind. Let's go, Mi Amor! What do you want to eat?" I exclaimed and was about to stand up, but I could barely move because of this laughing girl sitting on me who's not that light at all."Hmm. Hey! I have a better idea, Oj! Why don't we… umm, later before we go to our dinner date, let's go and find a dog that you want to adopt. A puppy! Yeah! I remember you want to call him Mickey. Right? D
*Olivia Jillian Hunters' POV*---Her lips trailed kisses down my neck, making me grip tight on the sheets while I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying her name in pleasure. As she casually licked and gently sucked my skin, I couldn't help but grab her hair with my left hand, and my right one was inside her shirt and scratching her bareback. She stopped kissing my neck and chuckled when I involuntarily pulled her hair back a bit hard, and I apologized quickly."Sorry, Love.""Don't worry. I like it." Syd replied and looked me in the eyes. I saw her smirk and eyed my lips."Please stop biting your lip too hard. It'll bleed." She asked me and leaned down to peck on my lips, and I responded immediately. How can I not bite it if she was so damn good at this kind of matter? And I don't want to be loud because neighbors might hear, or maybe any of her housemates or friends have arrived and wonder what we're doing here. Well, if she were in my situation, I am so freaking sure she'll
*Olivia Jillian Hunters' POV*---"Hey, OJ, look! It is your boy, Harvey. Do you wanna talk to him first? I can wait. Not that I am gonna eavesdrop, but I will wait till we are good to go. Or do you want me to go ahead first? I could, too." Grace Thales, one of my closest friends, asked me curiously as we got sight of my boyfriend, who has been eyeing me as he walks in the hallway with his group of friends."Oh, umm, no. I will just tell him something before we proceed." I answered as I closed my locker after getting the things I needed for my morning classes, and I saw her smile become wider."What? I love you? Eeeeet! Oh, damn, I am so single." She teased me, and I just glared at her playfully."Shut the hell up, Gracey!" I told her. Th
*Sydney Roswell's POV* --- "What happened to your face, Syd?" Kevin Ramirez, my only gay cousin who is sitting on the driver's seat and waiting for us to arrive, asked with his raised eyebrow in curiosity, and I didn't bother to answer him as I go halfway around his car to sit shotgun. "Don't ask her, Kev. She's not in the mood." Answered Vidia Logan, the academy's women's swimming team captain and my best friend since diapers, and she went inside the backseat with Emma York, my very nice neighbor. "When was she in her mood before? Well, anyway, I will just ask her face. Hey, face, what happened to Sydney?" Kevin muttered, but I heard it clearly, and he asked while examining my rosy left cheek that definitely still has the handprint of the meanest person in the universe. The gorgeous goddess, Olivia Jillian Hunters. I just don't know about her claim that I have stolen her boyfriend from her behind her back. I mean, da
*Sydney Roswell's POV* --- "Sydney? Are you there?" Vidia asked when she heard no response from me. I am just shocked as heck with this horrible news that I am watching. How could that bitch be in an accident? What a damn reckless creature! But maybe it's not her fault. Of course, it's a damn accident—the hell with that particular deadly crossing, and the hell with that truck driver! "Syd? Are you watching it?" She asked again, and I answered, "Yeah. I'm on it." "Well, the bad news is... She's still alive and was hurried to the hospital. Critical condition, though." My best friend uttered that made me feel angry, mixed with too much worry. "What? Why the hell would you wish that she'd be
*Sydney Roswell's POV* --- I received another text message from my best friend after she had called two times, but I didn't pick it up, and I opened it. I just don't want to talk or have any type of conversation with her right now. Not that I am mad at her for wishing my greatest foe to have a worse condition, but I don't want to hear anything that she will say about OJ. I'm not ready. I let out a sigh of relief when I read what she sent me, "Sydney, it's not purely about OJ, alright? I have no other news about her for now. It's about you. Mostly. And it's so damn important." Well, for me, nothing is more important than OJ being okay. When Vidia redialed my number, I rejected it and turned off my phone. There. Some peace.
*Sydney Roswell's POV* --- "Come on, Sydney. I know you do." Emma insisted as she stood up to wash her hands at the sink, and I just kept on contradicting her claim. "I really don't care about her, Ems. I was just not in the mood since earlier from school, remember?" I told her, and she wiped her hands dry and replied, "No. You are always looking like you are not in the mood whenever we are at school, Syd. Always. You don't laugh; you almost don't smile or even talk about something not related to academics-shits, or you are just being mean to OJ. You are always not in the mood. No offense, alright? Thankfully, you seem like a valid and normal person when it comes to just us: your family, neighbors, and your best buddies. So, yeah, now that you look like you are bringing a shitload of crap in your pockets while not at school,
*Sydney Roswell's POV* --- I run my left fingers on the rough surface of the canvas of the painting that I have been working on since last week. It's something that I cannot finish in a short period because of the number of details that I want to put on it, and I have to go to school and do some other things. I always find time to paint every time I feel sad and happy. But right now, I am miserable. I might as well work on this one. A small sigh escaped my mouth as I thought of the girl on the incomplete painting I was facing. It was still her face that I have finished, and I have a perfect idea of what kind of dress I will supply the missing picture. It's going to look perfect as she has always been. After sketching some details that would be my guide, I poured a few red, black,