Hey readers,
this book will consist of short stories I compile from different competitions or write for pure fun. I even started collecting prompts I wrote or beginnings of books. It helps me track my progress and I would love for it to be entertain...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Stop," I prompted, grabbing hold of the couch headrest while sitting head down.
"What?", he answered in a confused voice, his finger about to press the play button on the remote. I hustled to turn upright again while catching a breath and dropped the bomb.
"No more romance. I am starting to despise it."
Before he could protest, mouth agape in shock, I raised my hand in a stop motion.
"Do you know the feeling of getting intrigued by the first part of a new romance? You fall for the characters...and that's when it happens! You begin to ship them. The beginning of the end." I got louder towards the end, jumping to my feet while emphasizing every last word by gesturing wildly. "It gets worse and worse. Your heart aches for the two of them: wrenched, pulled through the dirt, torn apart only to be stitched together by a few stitches! And in the end-"
I took a deep, dramatic breath.
"For nothing-nothing at all! Your heart shatters into a million pieces if you're lucky. If not, it keeps beating, held by two lousy strings." I plump down on the couch next to him. "And the ordeal of the romance genre in general? You go through that again and again, until your heart can't take it anymore."
I closed my eyes, mentally preparing myself for his ironic comment, imagining the crooked grin on his face. "Am I allowed to clap now? Next thing I know, you'll drop dead at your Romeo's side," he remarked cheekily. I sighed annoyed and opened my eyes, only to catch the amused look of his greenish-hazel eyes that sparkled challengingly at me. I ignored them, pretending to be hurt. About to stand up, I felt his hands around my waist pulling me down into his lap. I shrieked, falling against his firm chest. "You know I love it when you speak philosophically," he dispersed into my earlobe. His breath tingling my sensitive skin, making me shiver involuntarily. I pushed him off quickly, regaining composure.
"Good that this isn't real, otherwise no one would listen to my philosophy anyway." I turned my back to him while disappearing into the kitchen and shut the door with a low thud. "How do you know, it isn't?" His voice sounded faint while I rested my head on the edge of the closed cupboard door.
Good point. You want to know how?
"I am pretty close right now," I whispered, my heart beating out of my chest, its painful rhythm reminding me how we could never be together. A shuffle sounded behind the door.
"Angie? Are you okay?" His voice sounded so heartbreakingly familiar, it made every breath heavier than the previous. Why did I have to love you? I rested my palm against the worn-out, oak-brown door.
"I love you, but my heart cannot take this anymore," I answered, opened the back door, and left.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
