Apollo's Weakness

Apollo's Weakness

  • WpView
    Reads 257,100
  • WpVote
    Votes 4,773
  • WpPart
    Parts 46
WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Sat, May 27, 202310h 1m
Apollo never had anything he cared for. All he thought about in his life, was how to end it. Until her. There was nothing that compared to the light that radiated off of her as she bounced into his life. He would do anything to keep it with him. But in the dangerous world that they lived in, she would become his weakness and that wasn't something he could risk, or was it? He never claimed he was a good man. ... Y'all I wrote this a long time ago so don't cringe too hard at the cliche scenes. I promise it gets better as you keep reading ;)
All Rights Reserved
WpMetadataHeadphonesText-to-speech
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • My Obsession #2
  • You And Me, Forevermore
  • Broken
  • We Broke
  • 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄
  • Mr. Bad Boy Saw Me Naked
  • I Fell in Love with a Bad Boy
  • The Golden Boys Secrets

There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines