beyond the pages

chapter 5

Love is real

Chapter 3

Miles's pov:
"I love you, Miles," a soft, feminine whisper echoed through the air.

I jolted awake, my eyes scanning the room frantically. Who was it?

The faint sunlight streaming through the windows cast an ethereal glow, but I saw no one.

My heart still racing, I rose from bed and wandered toward Ana's favorite writing spot.

As I approached, memories flooded my mind. Ana, sitting here, pouring her heart onto paper.

A shiver ran down my spine. Sometimes, I wondered... did Ana truly harm herself, or was it murder?

The doubt lingered, a nagging whisper in my mind.

I gazed around the room, searching for answers, but the silence remained.

Ana's words echoed in my mind: "I love you." But why did she leave me? Why did she take her own life?

The questions swirled, a painful reminder of what I'd never have.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the memories. I craved love, connection, but did I truly love Ana?

I never confessed my feelings to her face. Only after she was gone did I find the courage.

Did she hear me? Was it too late?

The thoughts tangled, a bittersweet web. I pushed them away, exhausted.

"Let's forget it," I whispered, the words barely audible. "It's too complicated.

As I savored my breakfast, my mind wandered to the enchanting girl with the lavender scent and melodious voice. Her presence had captivated me like never before.

Ana, I realized, might have been just an infatuation, not love. I never longed to meet her in person, only to be read by her.

But Emily... she was different. Her angelic voice whispered my name, sending shivers down my spine.

"Emily," I breathed, nostalgia washing over me. The girl who read me, understood me, and wrote me into existence.

We'd met when she first read me, and I'd felt an inexplicable connection. She'd crafted me into the character she desired, but then...

"Why did you burn me?" I wondered, pain seeping into my thoughts.

Memories of Emily's words, the ones she'd written for me, flooded my mind. I yearned to understand her actions.

Why had she created me, only to destroy me?

I couldn't shake the question from my mind: Why did Emily burn me?

Desperate for answers, I materialized in Emily's study, surrounded by shelves overflowing with books and papers. Her desk, cluttered with writing utensils and scribbled notes, seemed to hold secrets.

As I wandered through the room, a journal caught my eye. Emily's handwriting danced across the pages, and I recognized the words – they were about me.

My heart skipped a beat. This was her original draft, the one where she first brought me to life.

I delved into the journal, devouring every word. Emily's thoughts, hopes, and fears spilled onto the pages. With each sentence, I felt a deeper connection to her.