beyond the pages

chapter 10

                    Emily Williams

I heard a whisper - my name, "Emma." I spun around, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd really heard it, though. Shrugging off the eerie sensation, I quickly retreated to my room, not wanting to disturb Mom or anyone else.

I pushed open the door of my room, a sense of serenity washed over me. Unlike many, who find solace in open spaces, my sanctuary lies within these four walls. With the door closed, I'm enveloped in a peaceful silence, accompanied only by the musty scent of old books. As I turn the pages, I escape into a world of words, and it's there where I meet him, beyond the pages.

It's been two days since Miles and I started meeting in secret. We don't speak, we don't touch. We just stand apart, our eyes locked in a silent understanding. I'm hesitant to bridge the gap between us, afraid that if I do, he'll vanish into thin air. The thought of losing him, even though I barely know him, is unbearable. So I'll continue to gaze at him from afar, savoring the fragile connection we share.

I've come to realize that it's safer to admire Miles from afar, even if it means never truly having him. The alternative – keeping him close, only to watch him disappear – is too devastating to contemplate. I'm aware that I'm living in a fantasy, that Miles is merely a product of my imagination. But I'm willing to cling to this delusion, to believe that he's real and mine. As I opened the book, I slipped into his world, and began reading his story, his thoughts, his heart...

Love is real

Miles pov

I never thought I'd be the type to yearn for someone, but here I am, desperate to meet my Emily. She's the angel who has captivated my heart, and now I'm irreparably hers. There's no turning back, no escaping the gravitational pull of her presence. I'm forever changed, forever bound to the hope of finding her.

I gaze at her through the closed pages, mesmerized by her beauty. Meanwhile, she reads me like an open book, every thought and emotion laid bare. That's the paradox of our connection – I'm transparent to her, while she remains a mystery, hidden behind the closed covers of her heart.

She's someone who is complicated like a math problem which I want to solve,
she's complicated like a puzzle with missing pieces which I want to find,
She's complicated like a cryptic message which I am passionate about decoding,
She's complicated like a masterpiece that I am forever trying to understand,
And she's complicated like a work of art which I am drawn to

When she reads me, her face comes alive with giggles and smiles, her emotions bare for me to see. I crave that same intimacy in return. I yearn to see her beyond the pages, to glimpse the real her hidden beneath the shield she wears for the world. I want her to trust me enough to lower her guard, to share her true self with me, and to let me in.

As she reads me I see how she frowns and a smile appears on her face and at that moment except her nothing else mattered

I want her to run to me when the world is cruel to her, I want her to run to me when she's sad,when she's happy, when she's angry,when she's cheerful , when she's wistful.

Run to me little angel, run to me, open up to me. Because this world is cruel

                       Pov ends

I smiled, feeling a sense of wonder, as I finished reading Miles' thoughts. "No, Miles," I whispered, "I'm not complicated or mysterious. It's just that no one has ever tried to understand me, to hear my feelings. So, I've never shared myself with anyone. I don't know how to communicate, how to be vulnerable." A lone tear escaped, and I hastily wiped it away.