SHE AWAKES TO THE SMELL OF HIM. He's her favourite smell, warmth mixed with something else she can't quite identify, and she inhales deeply because it's one of the few things she's allowed to know about him.
Curled up against his side, she knows that he's fast asleep beside her even though she's unable to see the entirety of his face which is always shrouded by something she can't quite name. She's never heard his voice either but when they speak, she knows what they're both saying. And he says the most beautiful of things.
But she does know that he has blue eyes, the deepest and richest kind of blue, like the dark blues of the sea blended with the bright vibrant blues of the sky, and she instinctively feels that his voice is gentle when he speaks. Soft. Like the way a paintbrush moves across paper. And most of all, she knows that every fibre of her being craves for him when he's not here with her and loves him for every second that he is.
He stirs in his sleep and the brightness of the sun shifts, allowing her to see those beautiful blue eyes of his squinting down at her, half-asleep and half-blinded by the light. When he sees her gazing across at him, he smiles. Her favourite kind of smile. He pulls her in closer until their foreheads are touching before clasping her hand in his.
She closes her eyes.
And she dreams.
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foreword:
This story is something I will likely hold very close to my heart because in both many and very few aspects, this is personal to me.
Although I have always been academic and although I've always had a good idea of what I want to do with my life, this has not been without hard work or a growing dislike for the school system. Although my family are and have always been extremely supportive of everything I do, there is still the pressure I put on myself to succeed.
Layla is a very specific part of me from my past; a part of me who used to be insecure, low in confidence and sad. A part of me that has since grown and found a way to be happy.
It's these internal little things that I have interwoven in Layla. These small attributes and characteristics and thoughts that I once had (and still have) that you will see in Layla. Even though when you read this, you may think we are polar opposites; in many ways we are the same.
But this story also goes to every person who suffers from mental health or sadness or pain, to every person who has been failed by the school system, to every person who simply wants someone who can love them and understand them for who they are and who they will become.
We will figure this out. We will be okay.
I swear it.
And finally, to him. To the fictional boy that my own mind has created and has always known since I started writing. I like to think the person I fall in love with one day will be a lot like you, but that's probably wishing for the impossible. Then again, who knows? Miracles can happen.
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playlist:
youtube.com/playlist?list=PL4XRLFnT9icHZ4hofTlaUzfCjqGhP1hn
trailer:
None for now. I have no clue how to even make a good one.
disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to any person/thing are purely coincidental.
warning:
Contains swearing and deals with themes of depression/sadness. (How you feel you want to interpret whether there is depression/sadness is up to you.)
all rights reserved (copyright):
Copyright by author
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book or any portion must not be posted on any other sites, including social media, for anything other than promotional purposes with the permission of the author. Any infringement of the copyright is punishable by law.