.𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞,𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

.gotta start it new.

"It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings."

🔹🔸

"Everyone thinks I'm insane."

"Indeed you're." His smirk annoyed me, despite adoring him. He was being a sarcastic jerk. "Insanely beautiful."

A smile crept onto my lips. He knew how to compliment a girl, especially one like me. "If you weren't the definition of perfection, I would've punched you."

"Does perfection make me stand out?" He asked, playfully smirking. "Is that a turn-on?"

"Hell yes. Where do we find perfection in humans nowadays?" I asked.

Nowhere. This is rare. You're rare. You're perfect. Landon Carter, I might kiss you right now.

"I wouldn't mind it at all." He winked. That's when I realized, my stupid mouth could literally blabber anything. My cheeks turned red, Landon was so gorgeous, it hurt me, in a good way.

"Sweetheart, wake up. I have news for you,"murmured my dad, his voice thick with excitement.

I groaned inwardly.

Couldn't he have waited just five more minutes? I was in the midst of a dream where Landon Carter, the hot guy from Nicholas Sparks's novel, was about to kiss me. It was supposed to be the highlight of my morning. With a sigh, I grabbed a pillow and attempted to drown out my dad's voice, hoping to slip back into the dream where Shane West, in his twenties, was waiting for me.

"It's up to you. If you don't wake up, I won't tell you the news. It's about you," Dad said, raising his voice a bit.

Realizing I didn't want to miss out on any news, I reluctantly opened one eye to see my dad standing there with a grin plastered on his face. That was odd. He wasn't usually so giddy, but clearly, something had him excited.

"Good morning, Dad," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"Someone's in a good mood today. Good morning, sweetie," he replied, pulling me into a hug.

I nodded, bracing myself for whatever news he had to share.

I looked out of the window, greeted by the hues of orange, yellow, and red—the colors of the sunrise casting their warmth on the glass. Damn, I love mornings like this.

"What's the news, Dad?" I asked, curious about why he'd wake me up so early. His expression shifted from happy to serious, catching me off guard. Was something wrong? Did the neighbor's dog die? Did Dad lose his job?

"You know I love you, right?" He took my hand, his tone serious.

"If this is about me babysitting Mrs. Cizzare's daughter, count me out. I can't handle that little monster. She's a walking disaster."