Story cover for Moonlight Waves by EmeraldForest
Moonlight Waves
  • WpView
    Reads 222
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 26
  • WpHistory
    Time 4h 59m
  • WpView
    Reads 222
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 26
  • WpHistory
    Time 4h 59m
Complete, First published Dec 17, 2020
I was still naive then, I had no idea how that childhood love for each other would grow into something so strong, something...that...burns and aches. As if you're being pulled under by the waves and the depths press against your chest, pushing out the air from your lungs. 
   It's like drowning and the more you fall in love the more you're pained by the thought of losing him; and so the sea pulls you deeper and deeper into the blackest depths. It hurts the farther and farther you're pulled into the water, but the same thing that may be killing you is also the same thing keeping you alive- so you let it drag you under. 
  It's not what Mother described love to be- it's not what anybody described love to be-it's not a pleasant feeling that fills your belly with butterflies.
  No, it's the weight of the sea crushing against your lungs and tossing you back and forth beneath it's waves. It's the calm before the storm and the storm in itself. And it hurts, but you let it hurt you. Because without it you know you wouldn't be the same, and you know that for the pain of love to cease, would mean the love itself would cease. And you can't live without this love. The mere thought seems impossible. 
  So you welcome the hurt, you embrace it and it's not until he is safe again does the pain subside. But the moment he is away from home, the waves pull you under again and you struggle for air. 
  That is what love feels like.
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When I was 14, my best friend, Declan, rushed into my life like a storm. He climbed through my window one night, carrying a duffel bag full of baseball equipment, but it wasn't for a game. It was for me. He'd seen the bruises, heard the shouting, and knew what my dad had been doing. Declan, smaller than me even at that age, fought my father to protect me, taking the blows that I couldn't fight off. That night, my dad moved us away, and I never saw Declan again. Now, 13 years later, I'm back in town-older, tougher, and a lot more guarded-but I have no idea where Declan ended up. Life pulled us in different directions, and mine was full of scars, seen and unseen. Then, one night at a red light, a guy starts harassing me through my open window. Before I can react, a motorcycle screeches to a stop beside me. The rider-tattooed, broad-shouldered, and completely lethal-reaches through the guy's window, slams his head into the steering wheel, and rides off like it was just another Thursday. I follow him. He ends up at a place called The Rusted Anchor, a rough bar on the edge of town, hidden behind rusted fences and rows of bikes. The crowd is loud and rough, but I've seen worse. Inside, it smells like whiskey, smoke, and danger. And behind the bar, pouring drinks with practiced ease, is the man I thought I lost all those years ago-Declan. He's no longer the quiet, skinny kid who risked everything to protect me. He's a man now-hardened, scarred, with eyes like storm clouds and a presence that silences a room. He doesn't recognize me at first. But when he does, I see it-that same fire, that same instinct to protect. Only now, it burns even hotter. Declan isn't just back in my life. He's ready to do whatever it takes to keep me safe. And this time, no one is going to take me away from him.
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Ink & Steel

98 parts Ongoing Mature

When I was 14, my best friend, Declan, rushed into my life like a storm. He climbed through my window one night, carrying a duffel bag full of baseball equipment, but it wasn't for a game. It was for me. He'd seen the bruises, heard the shouting, and knew what my dad had been doing. Declan, smaller than me even at that age, fought my father to protect me, taking the blows that I couldn't fight off. That night, my dad moved us away, and I never saw Declan again. Now, 13 years later, I'm back in town-older, tougher, and a lot more guarded-but I have no idea where Declan ended up. Life pulled us in different directions, and mine was full of scars, seen and unseen. Then, one night at a red light, a guy starts harassing me through my open window. Before I can react, a motorcycle screeches to a stop beside me. The rider-tattooed, broad-shouldered, and completely lethal-reaches through the guy's window, slams his head into the steering wheel, and rides off like it was just another Thursday. I follow him. He ends up at a place called The Rusted Anchor, a rough bar on the edge of town, hidden behind rusted fences and rows of bikes. The crowd is loud and rough, but I've seen worse. Inside, it smells like whiskey, smoke, and danger. And behind the bar, pouring drinks with practiced ease, is the man I thought I lost all those years ago-Declan. He's no longer the quiet, skinny kid who risked everything to protect me. He's a man now-hardened, scarred, with eyes like storm clouds and a presence that silences a room. He doesn't recognize me at first. But when he does, I see it-that same fire, that same instinct to protect. Only now, it burns even hotter. Declan isn't just back in my life. He's ready to do whatever it takes to keep me safe. And this time, no one is going to take me away from him.