Forbidden Love

17 year old Chloe has just moved out of her parents house into her own apartment in London, when she falls in love with the boy a few doors down. She knows it's wrong but she just can't fight it. Will love ever find a way for the young couple?

Guys this is a lot like my other Movella (ie- a bit naughty, my name) so yessssssssss enjoy


1. Moving In

Chloe's P.O.V


As I packed my final boxes into my Mini Cooper convertible, I turn around and give my puffy eyed mother a hug, 


"Mum, I'll be fine, I'll call you as soon as I get there" I assured her as she squeezed me tight. She pushed me slightly away from her but kept hold of me and shook me with her small hands, 


"Make sure you do, Chloe, or I will literally drive to London and drag you back home" I throw her a quick giggle and move on down the line to my dad who is stood with his arms folded, he never has liked the idea of me growing up, so I think my moving out is not helping him with this dilemma.


"Don't have too many parties, don't invite boys round, don't drink too much, keep it clean and Chloe? Take care of yourself, please!" I rolled my eyes at him, in pure frustration, and pulled his arms away from his chest so I could hug him tight. My older brother, Tommy, had moved out a year ago, so I don't see him much now, only in the Christmas holidays and on special occasions. I let go of my dad and give them both a last goodbye kiss, and hop into my car for a nice, long 2 hour drive to London.


As I pull out of my street, I push the button that slowly pulls my roof down, revealing the hot summer sun to my skin, and turn my radio up to full volume blasting "Year 3000" by Busted because it's one of my all-time favourites, I mean, isn't it everyone's? 

As I hit the motorway, I started picking up my speed and the wind begins sweeping my long blonde ponytail up and blowing it in my face. My legs begin to get goosebumps as the cool breeze whips them with speed, I look to my left and see a big signpost saying 'London 4 miles' and could already smell my freedom.


Being only 17, I guess I am pretty young to be moving so far away from my home, but I have a sturdy modelling career in London, so it makes everything easier for me, so I don't have to drive out to London whenever I get a job or a shoot and I get more of a chance to meet new people and make new friends, because it's safe to say, I hate pretty much all of my old friends back home, so I'm here to make new friends, start a fresh. 

I finally reach Central London, the streets are busy and crowded, I push the button that brings my roof back up and instantly feel the heat building up inside my car so I roll the windows down, and turn my music off so I can concentrate on the new world around me. I go round a roundabout 3 or more times to find my exit because everything around me is so loud, this is not what I'm used to but I finally manage to find my exit and my street. 


The apartment I'm going to be living in is a 3 bedroom studio, so it's mostly open spaced excluding the three bedrooms and the balcony. It is already furnished and plumbed and equipped with a 56" flat screen TV so all I need to do is pay my bills and keep up with food shopping and I guess it will be pretty easy. 

I reached into my car to pull out the first of many boxes and began walking into the huge building that is soon to be my new home for what I hope to be a long time, I look to my right to find two elevator doors opening and closing as people board and leave, so I head off that way. All of them are full so I stand and wait for the next one to arrive which isn't shortly after. I step in and press the number 11 on one of the buttons on the wall when I see a curly haired boy running slightly to make it to the elevator that was just about to leave. I prop the box in my hand awkwardly onto my knee and reach my hand forward, preventing the doors from closing and he just makes it. 


"Thanks" he nods as he looks at the box in my hand

"Just moving in?" he begins again as the elevator starts moving, I nod awkwardly because I'm not going to have a box in my hands, be going up and be moving out now am I? That's just damn stupid. The elevator stops and he ushers me to go through the doors before him, my apartment is number 12 so luckily for me and my poor arms, it is only a few feet away from the elevator itself. Once again, I stand on one foot and prop the box in my hands onto my knees and rummage through my bag to find my keys. Eventually finding them, I unlock the door and precariously walk inside, it was beautiful, the floors were white floorboards and the walls were just bare bricks, a corner sofa was placed in the corner of the room and a TV opposite. A dining table with six chairs placed precisely around it is not too far from that and then across the other side of the room was a huge kitchen with a gleaming black marble counter and cupboards. I place the box marked 'Kitchen' onto the counter making sure not to scratch it and continued my journey into the bedrooms. The master bedroom was huge and had an ensuite bathroom joined onto it in the corner, the duvet covers were silk and the floor was white marble with a deep purple rug placed in the center of it. 


It's safe to say, I'm living quite the high life for a 17 year old.

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