๐ƒ๐„๐‹๐ˆ๐‚๐€๐“๐„๏ผŒแต—แต’แต แต‡หกสธแต—สฐ

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๐ƒ๐„๐‹๐ˆ๐‚๐€๐“๐„ โ› ๐–จ๐—Œ ๐—‚๐— ๐–ผ๐—๐—‚๐—…๐—… ๐—๐—๐–บ๐— ๐—’๐—ˆ๐—Ž'๐—‹๐–พ ๐—‚๐—‡ ๐—†๐—’ ๐—๐–พ๐–บ๐–ฝ? โœ ใ€ ๐€ ๏ฟฝ... More

๐ƒ๐„๐‹๐ˆ๐‚๐€๐“๐„
๐…๐€๐Œ๐Ž๐”๐’ ๐๐ˆ๐‘๐“๐‡๐ƒ๐€๐˜๐’
๐Œ๐”๐’๐ˆ๐‚
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐Œ๐จ๐ฏ๐ข๐ž ๐๐ซ๐ž๐ฆ๐ข๐ž๐ซ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐–๐š๐ฌ ๐„๐ง๐œ๐ก๐š๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐ ๐“๐จ ๐Œ๐ž๐ž๐ญ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐Ÿ๐€๐Œ ๐–๐ก๐จ ๐ƒ๐จ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐‚๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐€๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ฎ๐ข๐œ๐ค ๐‘๐ž๐ฆ๐š๐ซ๐ค๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐„๐ง๐œ๐ก๐š๐ง๐ญ๐ž๐
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐‚๐จ๐จ๐ฅ ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐’๐š๐ข๐ ๐€๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐‚๐ก๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ'๐ซ๐ž ๐ˆ๐ง ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐‡๐ž๐š๐
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐ง ๐€ ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐๐จ๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐‡๐ž'๐ฌ ๐€ ๐†๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฅ๐ž๐ฆ๐š๐ง
๐ŸŽ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐–๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ˆ๐Ÿ ๐€๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ˆ ๐๐ž๐ž๐ ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐“๐จ๐จ ๐’๐จ๐จ๐ง ๐“๐จ ๐ƒ๐จ ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐˜๐ž๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐‰๐ข๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐…๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง ๐’๐ก๐จ๐ฐ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ซ๐ ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐ƒ๐ž๐œ๐ž๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Œ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐‹๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐Œ๐ž ๐…๐จ๐ซ ๐Œ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐ƒ๐จ๐ง'๐ญ ๐–๐š๐ง๐ญ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐‹๐ข๐ค๐ž ๐€ ๐๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ ๐…๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ง๐
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐–๐š๐ง๐ง๐š ๐๐ž ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐„๐ง๐๐ ๐š๐ฆ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐–๐š๐ง๐ง๐š ๐๐ž ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐…๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐’๐ญ๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ 
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐“๐š๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐‹๐ข๐ฉ๐ฌ ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐ˆ๐๐ž๐š ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐‹๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฒ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐”๐ก ๐Ž๐ก ๐ˆ'๐ฆ ๐…๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐ˆ๐ง ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐‡๐ข๐ฌ ๐ˆ๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐š๐ฅ ๐Ž๐ง ๐€ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ข๐ง ๐€๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐๐ž๐œ๐ค
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐‡๐š๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฒ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐ญ๐ก๐๐š๐ฒ ๐‹๐ฒ๐ฅ๐š
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐Œ๐ž ๐…๐จ๐ซ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐‡๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐Ž๐ง ๐“๐จ ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ž๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐ž๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐Œ๐ž ๐–๐ž'๐ ๐๐ž ๐€ ๐๐ข๐  ๐‚๐จ๐ง๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐Ÿ ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฒ ๐‚๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐Œ๐ž ๐€ ๐’๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐Œ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐๐ž ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ก ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐…๐จ๐ซ ๐Ž๐ง๐œ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ"๐’๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ญ!"
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐Œ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐€๐ฌ ๐–๐ž๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ž ๐ƒ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ง๐ค ๐ˆ๐ง ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ค๐ข๐ง๐  ๐๐จ๐ง๐ฌ๐ž๐ง๐ฌ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐ƒ๐จ๐ง'๐ญ ๐–๐š๐ง๐ญ ๐๐จ ๐Ž๐ง๐ž ๐„๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐‡๐ž'๐ฌ ๐’๐จ ๐Ž๐›๐ฌ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ž๐ ๐–๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐Œ๐ž ๐€๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฒ ๐ˆ ๐”๐ง๐๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ๐š๐ง๐
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ค ๐‡๐ž ๐Š๐ง๐จ๐ฐ๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐Ž๐ง๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ƒ๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ ๐’๐จ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐‚๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐“๐š๐ค๐ž ๐ˆ๐ญ ๐Ž๐Ÿ๐Ÿ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐’๐š๐ฒ ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐๐š๐ฆ๐ž ๐€๐ง๐ ๐„๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐‰๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐’๐ญ๐จ๐ฉ๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐ˆ'๐ฆ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ ๐“๐จ ๐Š๐ž๐ž๐ฉ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐ˆ'๐ฆ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ ๐“๐จ ๐‹๐จ๐ฌ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐“๐ž๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐Œ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐–๐ž'๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ž ๐‰๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐…๐ข๐ง๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Œ๐จ๐ซ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐ƒ๐š๐ฒ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐‹๐ข๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐œ๐ค ๐Ž๐ง ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐…๐š๐œ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐ƒ๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐œ๐š๐ญ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐“๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ค ๐„๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐ˆ'๐ฆ ๐’๐จ ๐ˆ๐ง ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ˆ ๐Œ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐’๐ญ๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ 
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Š๐ง๐จ๐ฐ ๐ˆ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐€ ๐๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐๐จ๐ฒ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐“๐ซ๐š๐œ๐ค๐ฅ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ ๐‘๐ž๐ฅ๐ž๐š๐ฌ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐‚๐š๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ž ๐–๐ก๐ž๐ง ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Š๐ง๐จ๐ฐ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Š๐ง๐จ๐ฐ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐”๐ง๐œ๐จ๐ง๐๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐š๐ฅ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐‚๐š๐ฎ๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐‹-๐Ž-๐•-๐„
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐๐ฎ๐ฆ๐›๐ž๐ซ ๐Ž๐ง๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐ˆ'๐ฆ ๐’๐จ ๐’๐ข๐œ๐ค ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐“๐ก๐ž๐ฆ ๐‚๐จ๐ฆ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐€๐ญ ๐Œ๐ž ๐€๐ ๐š๐ข๐ง
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ’๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐š๐ง
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐„๐ซ๐š๐ฌ ๐“๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐Ž๐ง๐ž ๐’๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ ๐Ž๐Ÿ ๐†๐จ๐ฅ๐ ๐“๐ข๐ž๐ ๐Œ๐ž ๐“๐จ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐ƒ๐ž๐ฅ๐ข๐œ๐š๐ญ๐ž ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ฅ๐ ๐“๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ ๐€๐ง๐ง๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐œ๐ž๐ฆ๐ž๐ง๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐†๐ž๐ญ ๐ˆ๐ง ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐‚๐š๐ซ ๐ˆ๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐€๐ฎ๐ ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐ˆ๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐Œ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐–๐ก๐จ๐ฅ๐ž ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ฅ๐
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐•๐Œ๐€
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๏ผŽ๐“๐ข๐ฆ๐ž๐ฅ๐ž๐ฌ๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ•๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐€๐ซ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐๐ž๐ฌ๐ญ ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐“๐ก๐š๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐„๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐๐ž๐ž๐ง ๐Œ๐ข๐ง๐ž
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ–๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž ๐ˆ๐ฌ ๐Ž๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ—๏ผŽ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐–๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐€๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐๐ž ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐†๐ข๐ซ๐ฅ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐ŸŽ๏ผŽ๐ƒ๐š๐ซ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ'๐ซ๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Ž๐ง๐ž ๐ˆ ๐–๐š๐ง๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐‘๐š๐ฉ๐ฎ๐ง๐ณ๐ž๐ฅ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐…๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ง๐ง
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ๏ผŽ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐•๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ ๐…๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ‘๏ผŽ๐‚๐š๐ง ๐–๐ž ๐€๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐๐ž ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐‚๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ž ๐…๐จ๐ซ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ ๐€๐ง๐ ๐„๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ’๏ผŽ๐ˆ ๐•๐จ๐ฐ ๐ˆ ๐–๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐€๐ฅ๐ฐ๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ ๐๐ž ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ
๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐ƒ๐š๐ซ๐ฅ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ'๐ซ๐ž ๐Œ๐ฒ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ
๐๐จ๐ง๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐‚๐ก๐š๐ฉ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ๏ผŽ๐…๐ฅ๐š๐ฌ๐ก๐›๐š๐œ๐ค ๐–๐ก๐ž๐ง ๐˜๐จ๐ฎ ๐Œ๐ž๐ญ ๐Œ๐ž

๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ“๏ผŽ๐–๐ž ๐’๐ญ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐–๐จ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ก๐ข๐ฉ ๐“๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐‹๐จ๐ฏ๐ž

8.8K 328 152
By _xdelilah




























ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


























ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 lyla has dreaded for a while. Well this year's Valentine's day she had messed things up with her boyfriend. She missed him so much, and when she saw Enews, her heart shattered. She would never cheat on Tom, she loved him too much. But if she loved him too much then why'd she push him away?

The blonde girl let out a sigh as she looked down at the song she had finished writing and titled as 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰. All Lyla had to do was record this song, and possibly release it... or not? I mean, will she even release the other songs locked away safely? God, her life was a mess.

Lyla went on Instagram, watching all the couples gifting each other and cherishing each other with so much love. She envied them. It should be her with Tom. It wasn't though.

All of a sudden, a crazy idea came into Lyla's mind. Without even realising what she was doing, the blonde girl grabbed her car keys and walked out of her apartment and straight to her car. The singer sat inside her car, started it up and then began driving.

Within a few minutes, Lyla found herself parked outside Tom's apartment. She looked at the door through her window, hoping he would open it, but minutes passed and it didn't open. I mean, of course it wouldn't open, what was she expecting?

The girl regained her breaths and got out of her car. Her footsteps slowed as she began walking to his door, and then she stood in front of it. Lyla took a few deep breaths in and out before holding her fist up to knock the door. Before she could even knock, the door opened, making Lyla quickly put her hand down, her heart racing.

Lyla's eyes met Rachel's and Josh's. She noticed the shocked looks on their faces which made the blonde singer nervous. "Lyla." Rachel said after a second, a small smile on her lips. "Hi, how are you?" She asked the blonde girl, who smiled back and responded with an 'okay'.

That was a lie. It was so obvious it was a lie. Rachel noticed Lyla's puffy red eyes and the dark circles under her eyes. Rachel felt sorry for the girl. She knew how much she got treated horribly by the media and nobody deserves that.

"Who's at the door?"

Lyla's heart began beating faster as she heard the accent she missed deeply for the past few days. The blonde girl's eyes looked up to see her favourite pair of gorgeous blue eyes staring down at her. The Birmingham boy was shocked, surprised, but also happy. As much as he wanted to be angry with her, he just couldn't.

"We're going to go." Josh muttered, grabbing Rachel's hand and the two walking off, leaving Lyla and Tom alone. Lyla looked down at the ground. This was awkward and she hated it.

"Hey, come in." Tom spoke after a moment of silence, moving to the side and allowing Lyla to move past him. The British boy closed the door behind him and turned around to see Lyla stood there waiting for him. Tom walked past her and walked towards the living room, Lyla behind him.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Tom asked, watching as Lyla sat down on the sofa. The blonde girl shook her head, watching as Tom sat down opposite her. This was awkward...

The two stayed in silence for more than a minute. Lyla looked down at her hands and fidgeting with them. Tom noticed this and he knew she was feeling anxious. It was something she tended to do when they were dating. Are they still even dating though? Tom had no idea what they were. He just knew he still loved her.

"I'm sorry." Lyla mumbled, breaking the silence and looking up at Tom's blue eyes, feeling tears pool in the corner of her own. "I'm sorry for what happened that day. I let my insecurities get the best of me and I proved those comments right and I regret it so much." The blonde girl rambled on, feeling herself get stressed.

Tom immediately stood up from where he sat and went to sit next to Lyla. When he did that, he immediately grabbed her cold hands and placed it in his warms hands. Lyla immediately relaxed at this contact. She missed it. She missed him.

"Slow down and explain, okay?" Tom calmly said. "Now take deep breaths." He instructed, making Lyla copy his actions, and when she regained her breathing, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you." Lyla said, looking at Tom. A small smile appeared on her face when he kissed her forehead. It was another thing she deeply missed. The blonde girl took another deep breath before she began to explain what happened,

"I saw some comments saying how I wasn't good enough for you, that I was too fat and not pretty, and how I would ruin your life and it just made me self-conscious. I got so insecure that I started to think you deserved someone better and prettier than me, so I did what I did." She explained, feeling her voice crack from time to time. "I regret it though. I miss you and I hate what I did to you."

"Lyla, you should have told me. Look, the people commenting are probably insecure themselves that they comment on other people's looks. You're not fat and you are the most prettiest girl ever. I promise you that you are enough for me. You're the best thing to ever happen with to me." Tom softly spoke. "Next time you ever feel like this, you tell me, love."

There it was. The name Lyla had missed so much. Love.

The blonde girl nodded at Tom's words. She felt like she was finally at peace. "So you're not mad?" She sniffled, looking down at her hands that were intertwined with Toms.

"I'm not mad." Tom responded, a grin reaching his lips.

"Wait, so you're still mine?" Lyla stupidly asked the boy.

"I never stopped being yours." Tom replied back, making Lyla blush. The two looked into each other's eyes before leaning in and placing their lips against each others.

Tom's kissed trailed down to Lyla's neck, which made her tilt her head back and let out a soft moan. Before Tom could carry on, he pulled back. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked her, looking into the girls eyes. Lyla nodded, attaching her lips back onto Toms.

For the first time in days, the two finally felt like they were at home... oh, and they showed it to each other.


























ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 !

♥ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝟗,𝟕𝟏𝟔,𝟓𝟏𝟐 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌.
𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞   𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝖻𝗈𝗒 ❤️

━━ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝


























ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 !

♥ 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝐥𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝟑,𝟑𝟏𝟔,𝟗𝟏𝟖 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌.
𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡   𝖧𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 ❤️

━━ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝










































ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐡 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

[#]   𝖨𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗍𝖿 𝟣𝟢𝟦𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗆𝗀 😭 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗌𝗆 ❤️
[#]   𝗌𝗈 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗆𝗀 (𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖼 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉)
[#]   𝖠𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗋𝗈𝖻𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗎𝗓 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝖾𝗌 😁








ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

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