Track This Story: Feed
|Ch. #||Chapter Title||Word Count||Reviews|
Face, Cold Floor.
I made a face at him and asked, amused “How old do you think I am, five?”
I just liked staring into his eyes; they were a pretty colour; green, a colour I associated with spring, which had Easter. And we all know what Easter means: chocolate. And I love chocolate. In fact I’d marry it, if I could. (Yes, I’m that weird.)
“Sometimes, I really hate being Scor’s ‘best friend’.” Rose stated a few silent moments later, creepily echoing my thoughts.
“Why were you out anyway?”
JOIN HARRY POTTER FANFICTION
Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.Register Today!