Hiroshi Sakusa has spent most of his life in a hospital room-blind, fragile, and tethered to machines keeping his failing heart alive. His world is small and silent, until a new patient, Akio Miya, becomes his roommate. At first, Hiroshi wants nothing to do with him. But Akio's warmth and unshakable energy begin to seep into the cracks of his isolation. Days blur into nights filled with laughter, music, and conversations that make Hiroshi feel alive for the first time in years. As their bond deepens, Hiroshi begins to see the world in ways his eyes never could. But in a place where time is borrowed and hope is fragile, love may be the most dangerous risk of all. (Note: This was my preliminary exam on my subject "Creative Writing" in college, and I wanted to upload it here.)

They had the kind of love people envy-pure, unbreakable, eternal. But behind every perfect story lies a secret. When betrayal shatters their bond, both must face the truth that love isn't always enough to keep two hearts together.

Separated by time and life's demands, Alex and Sam reunite in the place where their story began. As familiar faces and memories resurface, they discover that love, no matter how long it's been buried, has a way of finding its way home.

You were my first love, long before either of us understood what love truly meant. We grew up side by side, barefoot on dusty roads, laughing under the acacia tree, sharing secrets we were too young to name. Somewhere between childhood and the quiet moments we stole as teenagers, my heart chose you. But I was afraid. Afraid of how big my feelings were, afraid of losing you, afraid of myself. So instead of choosing you, I chose the priesthood, believing that distance and devotion would silence what I felt. It never did. Years later, fate brings us together again, not as the boys who once dreamed under the stars, but as a priest and the groom he was asked to marry off. On the eve of your wedding, I write my final goodbye, reliving the love we never dared to become. This is a letter for the boy I loved and the man I must now let go, quietly, gracefully, and with a blessing instead of a kiss.