Excerpt from Phoenix's Diary Entry

I needed to complete that literature paper if I wanted to get at least a C on it, so I made my way to the library and hoped to get some work done. Dropping my bag, I took out my notepad and a pen and claimed a seat. A few minutes into the book, someone slipped a note in front of me.

I saw a girl. Enthralled,
This heart wondered all night long.
All night long.
What is she called?

The words brought a smile to my lips, and I lifted my head to look at the person who wrote them—gray eyes. My breath faltered as his smile grew bigger. The guy from the park!

“Hi,” I whispered.

Instead of replying, he rolled his eyes and pointed at the note he handed me. I raised my brows—what was that supposed to mean? Looking heavenwards, he shook his head and whispered, “Answer back.”
Damn, I could write lyrics, but when I was under pressure like this, absolutely nothing would come out. I scribbled something on the back of the paper and turned it toward him.

The one who burns to rise from the ashes.
And what’s yours,
If I may ask?

His forehead creased, probably wondering what kind of odd name this was, but then his gray eyes softened, and a smile appeared on his face. He took the pen between his fingers and tapped it on his cheek, thinking. After a few seconds, he wrote something on his notepad and showed it to me.

Kai …
Who likes birds that fly,
Girls with green eyes,
Blueberry pies
And making the girl before me smile.

I bit back a smile and wrote back.

Nice name.
I like it.

He read what I wrote, and looked up. Fixing his gaze on me, he bit his lower lip—Oh boy—and scribbled something.

And I like you …

As soon as I read what he wrote, a smile formed on my lips. I was not one to blush, but no guy had been upfront with me before.  

Thank you …
But I need to know you before I can say whether I like you or not.

I showed him what I wrote and the sides of his eyes crinkled. He landed those grays on me again, but this time they lingered a moment longer. He wrote something and turned the notepad to me.

Then go on a date with me?

Dumbfounded, I stared at what he wrote and tried to process his words. I saw this guy a few days ago, and we didn’t talk. He just completed one line for me—and now he was flirting—but a part of me loved this attention. What do I do?

Why do you think I should go on a date with you?

He read what I wrote and raised one eyebrow. Long fingers threaded through his brown hair, messing it up as he thought about his next words. 

Because I’m a fucking sexy beast.

Laughter tried to escape me, but I held it in, reminding myself that we were in a library.

But what if you’re a sexy beast who’s a bad kisser?

His eyes scrolled over what I wrote, and his features shifted, suddenly becoming serious. He pushed away the lock of hair that fell into his line of vision, and pasted a devil-like smirk on his face.

Babes, when I kiss you, you’ll breathe me, you’ll forget this stupid world, and you’ll catch fire. That’s a promise!

Who was this guy? 

Whoever he was, he was damn tempting.

If I catch fire, you get yourself a date.

He read my words and wrote his.


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