The Original Wattpad international sensation.
The story is simple.
Depressed boy meets crazy, possibly legally insane, girl at therapy and their whirlwind adventure begins.
Korin and Micha had only one thing in common: they had each discovered the...
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Things I wish I could forget:
Finding Mom dead
John in drag
Blow up dolls playing twister...okay, that one was amusing
Micha die
Micha's room was not what I was picturing in my head when I thought of where the woman I loved slept: chains, whips, handcuffs, gimps, and sheep I kept picturing for some sexually deranged reason. Then again, when looking around the room, it was exactly what I pictured. She had the entire top floor attic space, which was massive, and acted as a bedroom, studio, and I couldn't even begin to guess what else she used it for. The walls were all black, but most of the paint was covered in pictures, art, strange artistic interpretations, and disembodied dolls. I was more than confident that the latter was just for a freak factor. The six-piece photo collection of me from that first day was across from her bed with an unrestricted view.
My beautiful girl wasn't lying when she said she was getting freaky kinky with herself while I watched. Nice...slightly disturbing, but hot as hell.
Slowly I wandered around the room, finally getting my chance to look around the one place I had been itching to venture to, and I couldn't help but smile. There were lots of pictures of the two of us together, even some of John and us. Even to this day I didn't know how she did it, but she was always getting pictures of us. She was a stealth, six-foot paparazzi ninja. Somehow, all of the pictures looked as if they were professionally staged. I still haven't seen anyone capture so much emotion, energy, expression and feeling in a single picture as Micha could. My favorite was the one from before she covered me in baby oil that night in her gallery when we cuddled all night. Micha was sitting on one of the counters, and I positioned myself between her knees and she kissed me. The camera was on auto and clicked a picture every ten seconds, capturing more passion in a kiss than I knew was possible; tongues wrapping around each other, Micha pulling my bottom lip between her front teeth, the way my hand cupped the back of her head in a possessive means... It was beautiful and erotic. Plus, I looked taller in the photo since she was sitting down, and I really liked that. On her hand she had written Kiss Me, and I was more than happy to oblige. The set of photos were two-by-three inches in black and white and were together making a large poster print of our love.
I need to get a copy of it for my room.
"Is that Micha and Micha?" John asked looking at one of the movie posters as his head tilted to the side.
I joined him to see what he was talking about then chuckled; sure enough it was.
It was an amusing interpretation, or rendition depending on who you asked, of the movie poster from the Baz Luhrmann rendition of Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet. Leo was replaced by a woman dressed the same as he was in the movie—ugly Hawaiian shirt, chopped blond hair, bandages on her arm—and she was kissing Juliet—greenish toga-styled dress and long hair—only it was the same girl playing both parts, and better yet, both girls were Micha.
