𝐇𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬.
Love is hope for the hopeless and sin for the saint. Love is both a salvation for the lost and a temptation for the righteous. It drives people to cross lines they swore ne...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Don't forget to vote ⭐
Happy Reading <3
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Rutvik knows Nahella really loves white flowers.
The prison garden outside the Mandir was silent. Prisoner 704 knelt in the dirt, his muscles stiff and aching after the relentless 24-hour standing punishment from the day before. His legs had gone numb hours ago, but he forced himself to move, to dig, to plant. Pain had become a familiar companion, the one he no longer fought against.
His hands, one flesh and one cold metal, were caked in damp soil as he carefully nestled delicate white flowers into the ground. For his Ella.
11 years ago, when he was just a boy with nothing to his name but a flute and a hunger he had long since learned to ignore. She was a stranger who had left behind more than just kindness. She had left behind a name, one he had clung to in the years that followed.
He exhaled slowly and his prosthetic right hand, streaked with dirt. This was the hand she had once held. Small fingers curling around his wrist, warm and unafraid. She had been the first to touch him without cruelty.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
