Saturday 28 March 2015


Dear Diary,

I am right. I was right. The flutter in me the day I saw his name? I was damn very right. This boy is trouble. The kind of trouble I want, you know? The kind of boy trouble that makes me feel alive. 

What is with straight-A girls falling for rugged boys I don't know. But all I will tell you is that, I, have fallen. I have fallen too steep a fall into the arms of this boy who spells trouble. 

There is something so captivating about him. Like gravity. Like a moth to flame, I am pulled to him. I don't know to what, but. What is it about him? His name? The way he spells my name? The little chuckle that follows his words, at times? The way he really doesn't care about anything, anybody at all? Or is it the way he engulfs me? Like the thick fog in the morning skies? Or the deep sense of meaning in his eyes? Oh. His eyes could swallow galaxies. What hope did I ever have?  

This boy is so not my type. And that's what is so annihilating. It doesn't take effort for him, you know. He just glides, smooth. Every action of his jolts my heart. Into beats and no beats. And into beats again and no beats, all over again. I could die, the way he clutches me like its nobody's business? I could die. 

He awakens the woman in me. The giggly, chirpy me, he silences her. Just the way he looks at me, boy, seven worlds around me cease to exist. Seven words in me, cease to exist. I know the boy is trouble when I fail to breathe, you know how hopeless my lungs are. But this boy right here, he makes my heart skip a beat. He could damn well kill me, taking possession of more than my heart.

His touch is electric. Its a million volt jolt rushing through my veins and a thousand fireworks explode within me. Every time his hand grazes mine, its an electric shock. Every time his skin touches mine, I swear you can see sputtering sparks. I can't look him in the eye, diary. I just can't. Because every time I look him in the eye, deep dark desires take over and I know, this boy is trouble. 

His gaze is trouble. His touch is dangerous. The way he smells? Its intoxicating. His existence is life threatening.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what would it be to kiss this boy. Will he taste like blood in my mouth? I know he will taste like blood in my mouth. 

I am falling into a pit-less abyss of deep, dark and mystery. And diary, I can't wait for my free fall. I have surrendered to the compelling force of this boy that's acting on me, and I don't want to be rescued. He is not my Prince Charming, diary, because I am not a princess anymore. 

I am the queen. And him? My emperor. 

Because its hard to resist a bad boy who's a good man. 

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PS: Fiction.
PPS: Let me know how you liked it.


  1. Awww loved your writing. Babe, you are so good at this!

    1. CC! Its been so looong! Howaarrrryuuuu? :) Thank you so much!
      PS: I missed you!!

  2. This is so captivating. I hoped to see the end...


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