UNVOICED LOVE

CHAPTER - 23

Hannah’s P.O.V

The moment Dad said that Uncle called, telling him Aaron had lost control—destroying everything and acting like a madman—my heart sank. Only I know how he is when he spirals like this. How he hurts himself. How deeply he breaks.

Dad dropped me off at Aaron’s house as Uncle requested. Everyone knew—only I had the power to calm him in moments like this.

I knocked three times. No answer.

I entered the passcode—something not even his closest friends knew. He only gave it to me… so I could reach him if I was ever in danger.

Each digit I pressed made my heart race. Not with fear for myself, but for him. The fear of him hurting himself was worse than any danger he could ever be to me.

It felt like walking into a lion’s den—one that was starved and wild—with nothing but hope that it wouldn't harm me.

The door creaked open with a heavy thud, and what I saw made my blood run cold.

The house was a complete mess. Shattered glass, broken furniture, walls cracked… not a single thing was untouched. It was chaos. It was pain. It was him.

I ran to his room—blood on broken glass. My breath caught.

Please let it not be his blood.

Even though I knew the truth.

I rushed to his study—books torn, shelves shattered, blood-stained handprints on the walls.

No. No. This can’t be happening.

Room by room, I searched, desperation clawing at me. Finally, I reached the door to his father’s study and opened it quietly, my last hope whispering through the silence.

There he was.

Back turned to me. Doing something I couldn’t see.

His shirt was thrown off, his hair tangled and greasy like it hadn’t been washed or touched in days. I moved closer and caught the scent of something burning.

That’s when I saw it—his hand.

I pulled him around to face me.

His tear-filled eyes instantly hardened. He roared, lost in rage, and reached for my neck—but stopped when he saw me.

His eyes softened. Warmth flickered back in.

He fell into my arms and cried.

> “I’m sorry... I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I left you there. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call. If I had just listened… if I’d taken you with me… none of this would’ve happened. I failed you. I failed your dad. I broke every promise. I’m worthless. I don’t deserve you—I’m not capable of love…”

And then he did the unthinkable.

He took my hand and started slapping himself with it, punishing himself with every ounce of pain.

“Aaron!!” I shouted, tears spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t bear to see him like this—broken, mad, lost.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I cupped his face, wiped his tears... then the blood from his lips. And without another thought, I rose up on my toes and kissed him.

My first kiss.

I always imagined it to be magical, under the stars, maybe with roses. Not this—chaos and pain. But somehow… this felt perfect.

He froze. Didn't respond.

And as I pulled away, my hands trembling, he suddenly gripped my waist and yanked me towards him. I grabbed his shirt tightly—terrified I’d fall.

Then he kissed me.

Softly.

Then deeply.

Not out of lust… but pure, raw love.

Aaron’s P.O.V

It was her. My pumpkin.

The moment I saw her, everything inside me shattered—and healed. I pulled her into the tightest hug, ignoring the burn in my hands, the blood, the pain. None of it mattered.

Only she mattered.

> “I’m sorry,” I whispered again and again. “I didn’t keep my promise. I wasn’t there when you needed me. I let you down. I don’t deserve you…”

I wanted her to hit me. To punish me. To tell me what a monster I was for not protecting her. But I knew she wouldn’t. So I held her hand... and used it to slap myself instead.

She screamed my name. Her tears broke me even more.

She held my face, wiped my bloodied lips… and then…

She kissed me.

Her lips on mine made time stop. My whole body went numb—then electric. I finally understood what Liam meant when he told me how it felt kissing Emma for the first time.

She pulled away, eyes flickering with hesitation.

But I wasn’t done.

I pulled her to me by her waist. She clutched my shirt like I was the only thing holding her up. And I kissed her—softly, then with all the pain, love, and sorrow we had both buried for years.

It wasn’t just my first kiss.

It was a confession.

A promise.

We kissed until she gently gasped, “I… can’t breathe.”

I pulled back immediately. “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

She just blushed, looking away. “I’ll get the first aid kit,” she whispered.

She removed every shard of glass from my hands, wiped the blood, bandaged my wounds, and even wrapped the gash on my head.

When she was doing this, the only thing I was imagining was her lips on mine. How soft it felt. She is becoming bolder dad by day.

Then she made me go to the hospital—forced me, actually. She drove, stayed beside me, made sure no injury was missed.

And the whole time… she wouldn’t even look at me.

Shy. Blushing. Adorable.

My lips still tingled with the memory of hers.

That kiss—our kiss—made me forget how my lips ever tasted before her.