Story cover for My Lady by aliferxus
My Lady
  • WpView
    LECTURES 289
  • WpVote
    Votes 61
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 30
  • WpHistory
    Durée 12m
  • WpView
    LECTURES 289
  • WpVote
    Votes 61
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 30
  • WpHistory
    Durée 12m
En cours d'écriture, Publié initialement janv. 17, 2018
He fears his feelings for her. 

One constant thought in his head.




"They say Rome was not 

Build in a day 

And it thus, still stands."



"But My Lady, 

My heart felt these affections,

In just a single day."





↣ Started: 18th January 2018
Part 1 completed on 6th March 2018.


➳ Cover by : llTheDonutQueenll



[First Ranking #457 in Poetry (20.1.18)]
[H.R: #221 in Poetry (23.1.18)]


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48 chapitres Terminé Contenu pour adultes

"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