Chapter Twelve

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So, I have just got some rather disappointing news that my story 'California Dreaming' has been disqualified from the 2012 Watty Awards... I'm sad, because I was winning my category, but you know what they say: when one door closes, another door opens. This leads me onto my bit of rather exciting news! There's a possibility that I'm going to be on the wattpad 'featured' list in February with this story! I just wanted to say again, thank you for all the support you've given me with this new story; it really means a lot to me, I swear to it. 

Thank you, 

Lily x




   “Look at me,” he urged, his voice pressing. I lifted my eyes up to meet his, smiling modestly. 

   “What?” I giggled, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. 

   “I just like looking at you,” he confessed, making me blush. I rolled my eyes and fidgeted around on the seat, leaning all my weight against his chest, letting him encase me in his strong arms. “I was just looking at you and thinking about every single cell of your body and how much work it must be for them to specialize and become an organism as beautiful as you. When they differentiate, from nothing to, I don’t know, a liver cell, does it know that it’s becoming a part of you, Lana O’Rourke.” I had been listening, carefully, not wanting to interrupt. “Lana O’Rourke, even the name is more glorious than any other name I have ever heard.” 

   “That was beautiful,” I admired, “I would have liked to film it, or copy it down, save it for a rainy day.” I continued to read my book, curling my toes against the rough, leather of Kit’s couch. 

   “It’s gone now, the words, I can’t even remember how I started,” I looked up at him over my shoulder and extended my neck brushing my lips against his briefly before turning back to my novel. “Sing to me,” he lent close to my ear and whispered, his warm breath spreading over my skin, making me shiver. 

   “No,” I began to wriggle delightedly, as he caressed his fingers down the length of my forearm, kissing my cheek passionately, resting his index digit in the small dent in the crook of my elbow. 

   “Please,” he begged, dragging his bottom lip across my cheek. 

   “Why!” I exclaimed. 

   “Because you’re wonderful,” Kit suddenly lifted me up in his arms, curling me up on his lap so he was looking directly into my eyes, so close it seemed as though my grey eyes were swimming. “I have something to ask you,” his smile faded all of a sudden, looking down at my fingers where they lay in his.  

   “Go on,” I persisted. 

   “I don’t know what you’re going to say,” he warned me, I just shrugged. 

   “I don’t care,” I admitted, “ask me anything, anything.” 

   “The final part of A Crippling Blow is coming out soon,” he reminded me. 

   “Tenth of February, it’s in my diary,” I grinned. 

   “A week, exactly,” he chuckled tiredly, rubbing at his eyes anxiously. “I have to go to the premieres, in London, and in New York, I’m going to have to be in America for a couple of days.” 

   “That’s fine, as long as you hurry back,” I smiled, brushing my first finger down the bridge of his nose. 

   “I will, trust me,” Kit agreed. “London though, the London premiere,” he took a deep breath and sighed, “look, I’m just going to ask you. I don’t want to go there on my own, with Isabel, I don’t want to see her, it will just make me angry.” 

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