‘You have an anger management problem.’
I whipped around at the sound of the warm, lilting British accent behind me.
The person it belonged to sat on the picnic table under the ski hut. His general state of disarray was almost enough to distract me from his face. The boy-if he could be called that, looking like he belonged in college, not high school-wore Chucks with holes worn through, no laces. Slim charcoal pants and a white button-down shirt covered his lean, spare frame. His tie was loose, his cuffs were undone, and his blazer lay in a heap beside him as he lazily leaned back on the palms of his hands.
His strong jaw and chin were slightly scruffy, as though he hadn’t shaved in days, and his eyes looked gray in the shade. Strands of his dark chestnut hair stuck out every which way. Bedroom hair. He could be considered pale in comparison to everyone else I’d observed in Florida thus far, which is to say he wasn’t orange.
He was beautiful. And he was smiling at me.
—-Michelle Hodkin describing Noah Shaw for the first time, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer
okay, but seriously michelle hodkIN IS ONE OF US BC THIS IS TOTALLY A CLUSTERFUCK OF EVERY SINGLE MEMBER OF ONE DIRECTION I MEAN REALLY MICHELLE REALLY AT LEAST TRY TO BE SUBTLE
like: scruff? chECK
meSsy hAIR?!? YES
blue eyes!? YES
STRONG JAW???? YESSSSSSSS
chucks???? aww yisss
and last but not least….. BRITISH!!!! IN FLORIDA?! REALLY???? COME ON girl you got the thirst