The Things We Do For Love

The Things We Do For Love

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Nov 21, 2018
Part Of The Story '"Why do I feel so weird? He makes me happy, but he's really annoying. My job is to protect him, but.....I want to protect him. Whatever he feels, I feel..... Why!? He's driving me crazy! Why would he just leave like that without telling me!?" She slowly starts to sob in his room.' This story is about a girl named Artemis and a prince named Jace. Two people that wanted to stay away from love. Two people that didn't believe in love. Artemis is a girl with secrets and she tends to keep it that way. She cares for people. She believes that Prince Jace is being framed for a crime and she wants to help him. In order to help him, she has to become his bodyguard. Doing this changes everything that they believe in. Artemis and Jace the craziest things just to fight for what they believe in, but what will happen they fight for each other? Follow along with the story and watch how the characters change and watch the intoxicating relationship between Jace and Artemis! What will happen to Artemis? What happened to Artemis? Do Jace and Artemis fall in love? If you want to find out more about this complicated life of Artemis and how her feelings change for the people around her, then read my story!
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huntingpast
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Enver Williams is leading on a normal life but that is all ripped away from her when she is taken from her home town. When Enver comes to realize that there are others like her in more ways than one, she is determined to free herself and her newfound friends from the physiological torment of her closely supervised enclosure. ••• "Do I make you nervous, Enver?" Another idiotic question. "Wouldn't the man who kidnapped you and threatened to kill you make you nervous?" I snap at him. He only smiles an odd, crooked grin. I can make that disappear. "Wouldn't a murder make you nervous?" Now it's my turn to pull the strings. He looks at me with hurt in his eyes. "How many times do I have to say it?" He pauses, I guess hoping for some sort of mercy in my eyes, "I didn't kill her." "Liar!" I shout. "Why won't you believe me?!" "Would you believe yourself?" "It wasn't me who shot her," he sits on a stool, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then how do you know she was shot?" "I saw it. I saw him kill her," his voice was riddled with such pure vulnerability and pain it begged me to believe him. "Who?" I try to sound sympathetic, but it comes out as scared. Maybe, subconsciously, I am scared.

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