All roads lead to you... even those I took to forget you.

And if yearning had a shape, it would look an awful lot like me. ▍ AN ORIGINAL STORY ╱ small town romance! Graceland, Georgia. A town where spotted cattle graze and home is always for certain. Where the girl crowned homecoming queen bleeds for the boy with old money veins and wandering eyes. That girl blossoms like she's expected to, bleeding heart and all, just to wither beneath the man oozing green and gold. It's too late to go back, but it's never too late to try again. Junia Driscoll was homegrown royalty. Her small town notoriety was meant to carve out a pathway to her undoubted success. Her husband, her high school sweetheart, a star athlete, and successful investment banker, had given the girl all she could have imagined. However, the dream had since become a total nightmare. All that is shadowed is brought to light when she agrees to star in a segment disguised as a Mother's Day tribute on a popular talk program, in which her closest friend confesses to having an affair with her husband. Heart corrupted, she chooses not to be left alone in spite of herself. With her small daughter, Pearl, in tow, she forges a route back to the place where everything is comforted by love and lillies. There, she hopes to mend the pieces of her broken heart. Bit by nauseating bit. What she hadn't anticipated was to reconcile with an old friend turned brief flame clad in consolation whose heart had nearly bled him dry. Their shared gloom soon begins to fade, playing host to luminescence. And in that glimmer of light, of what was then, what was now, and of what was to come-that, was where eternity began to flow. ❪ f!oc & m!oc ❫ PEARLJARS © 2024 BOOK ONE of FOUR written by april

The winner takes it all, and the loser has to fall. ╱ ORIGINAL

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

Fall in love again and again. ╱ ORIGINAL. Cover by @minusgradseele