More Taylor! Hooray!
Hope you all like the edit above. The photo wasn't drawn by me, but only colored by me :) I can't read the signature below, so this is credited to its rightful owner (whom, I cannot read lols)
Anywhale, y'all should be happy that I updated not too long after the previous chapter... and that's because my exams are coming up, and I need more time to procrastinate on studying! Yay!
By the way, Happy New Year to all of you! May the next year be sassy and sparkly for all of you, and continue being awesome... unless you're a bitch, because I wish you the worst, love.
Mkay, enough with the babble. Time for some Jelsa cheese! (weeeee~!)
- - - - - Jack - - - - - ➳
Elsa was covering her eyes from the lights, and I stayed on guard for her. I was used to this kind of treatment, so I just held my head high, since I'm sure as hell that they've got all the pictures that they wanted already.
Most of the people were yelling, "Who are you with Jack? Where did you two go?"
And like what I was always told to do whenever things like these happened, I kept my mouth shut.
She glanced at me, while cupping her face from the windshield of paparazzis— her blue eyes struck and shocked from being suddenly bombarded.
The lights inside her home lit up, and soon enough, I saw a glimpse of her dad getting out of their house to see the commotion outside.
The people averted their gaze to him, instead, which got Elsa out of her shell to quickly get out of the car before I could say anything.
"What's going on in here?" Mr. Hale's voice boomed across the street. The paparazzis stopped taking photos for a moment, and quickly dispersed when he added, "Get out of my front yard!"
Elsa briskly walked towards her father— hugging him as they met. Her dad stroked her hair for a moment, and whispered to her something very faint to my ears.
She nodded, and took one last glance at me before heading indoors.
I made my way out of my car to explain and to apologize to her father, but he quickly cut me off with a stern warning.
"I don't want my daughter to have any regrets," he started. "I raised her properly, and you're ruining it with your wild Californian ways."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hale," I apologized. "I didn't know. I just wanted to see her again."
"And that is exactly what I won't allow to happen anymore," he almost yelled.
He stepped in further, and I took a huge step back. He said five of the worst words that I've ever heard of, "Stay away from my daughter."
"No, please," I pleaded. "I have to see her again. This summer is all we got."
"And she's the only Elsa that I got, and I don't want her life to be publicly ruined," he said. "You came here — making her the happiest she's been since her mother was alive, and when you leave, you're going to create a storm out of her. I don't want that to happen. I don't want her to get hurt."
