Angel Bellamy, shy and unnoticed by most, unintentionally finds herself caught up in the whirlwind on the resident 'Bad Boy', Zanthus Blacks', life. A burning journey of soft hands, somber stories, sweet sorrow and blooming affection occurs. It's safe to say that these polar opposites could have never foreseen this side of their futures. What makes the bad boy bad? Read to find out.

“Whatever, then. I don’t want to know what you get up to at a quarter to four in the morning anyway.” “No?” I chimed. “No.” He stood his ground firmly, until. “Alright yeah maybe I do.” He gave in, tone defeated but I got the inkling he didn’t mind as much as it seemed he did. “Three minutes and forty starting now then.” I quipped, and he chuckled lightly before agreeing. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“What do you want me to do?” It was quiet. The wind didn’t sing and the streets were dead. Trees had stopped talking and all that was left to be heard was the deteriorating form of myself. “Stop waiting for the sun to set to shade in the colours.”

“You’re my boy. You’ve been my boy. You’ll always be my boy. You'll only be my boy. My always boy."

"Say It Softly baby, wouldn't want to get caught now would we?" He whispers, his lips moving against the shell of my ear. "Oh be Quiet."