𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒔
  • Reads 314
  • Votes 26
  • Parts 10
  • Time 1h 29m
  • Reads 314
  • Votes 26
  • Parts 10
  • Time 1h 29m
Ongoing, First published Feb 11, 2023
Mature
A true romantic at heart, a need to see love 
in everything, even in the mind with the worst intentions for such a hopeless soul.



𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑨𝒀𝑳𝑶𝑹, soft-hearted and down to 
earth, fragile spirits like hers were never 
meant for a world so cruel, with her baby sister 
to take care of and her family life shattered, 
it's easy for someone so cruel to take advantage 
of someone so kind.



𝑯𝑬𝑵𝑹𝒀 𝑺𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑶𝑵, such a cold exterior, cold meaning mean but not to be mistaken 
as unattractive, because when you saw him 
heat took over and suffocates you at the 
smallest glance; but unsurprisingly demons 
of his own tend to take over him, some in the 
form of his own family.




                             ꧁❀✿❀✿❀✿❀꧂




    ❝𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒚❞ I mumbled, laying my head against 
    his chest-snuggling against him-the apparent     
    but not overbearing smell of teakwood fills my   
                senses and a warmth fills my chest 



       His voice has depth from how close he is to  
    falling asleep  ❝𝑴𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆?❞ I smile against him 



     I kiss his shoulder, twice, using just enough 
  pressure to know I'm here. His lips gently press  
the top of my head and finally I feel safe, at home.




                             ꧁❀✿❀✿❀✿❀꧂
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In the quiet corners of my heart, I kept a secret garden-a fragile bloom of love that I tended with care. It was for someone who never truly belonged there. His touch was like frost on petals, beautiful yet cold. His words, sweet as honey, dripped with deception. I loved him with a fervour that blinded me to the truth sometimes love is a cruel mirage. But as the seasons changed, so did my perception, revealing the fault lines of our mismatched souls. He was the wrong puzzle piece, forcing himself into spaces where he didn't fit. And I, foolishly, tried to mould myself to his edges. The pain of loving the wrong person is a silent ache-an ache that gnaws at your spirit, eroding the very essence of who you are. It's the realisation that you've been watering a barren tree, hoping for blossoms that will never come. Yet, I clung to him, desperate for validation, afraid of the void that would follow if I let go. But life has a way of surprising us. In the quiet aftermath of heartbreak, when tears blurred my vision, I stumbled upon a different kind of love. It wasn't loud or tempestuous; it was a gentle whisper-a warm breeze that carried away the debris of shattered dreams. 𝓓𝓮𝓿 appeared like a sunrise after a storm, illuminating the corners of my wounded heart. He was the right puzzle piece missing half of my soul. His laughter was a melody that resonated with mine, and his touch ignited constellations within me. We built a love that didn't need mending, for it was whole from the start. In his arms, I found solace, and in his eyes, I glimpsed eternity. The pain of loving the wrong person prepared me for the miracle of finding the right one. It taught me that scars can heal, and broken hearts can bloom anew. Now, as I stand on the threshold of forever, hand in hand with the one who fits seamlessly into my existence, I honour the past wrong turns, the tears, and the silent battles. For they led me to this love that feels like coming home.
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Our eyes met, and my pulse soared. The world narrowed to a single, thrilling possibility. Each whispered word, every tender touch, pulled me under his spell. I was lost, and I knew it. The hug that changed everything became our sanctuary, our haven. Yet, shadows of doubt crept in, taunting me. Had I transformed the untouchable heartthrob or merely become a stepping stone? The question haunted me, a constant hum in the background of our intoxicating romance. Was our love a work of art or a fleeting masterpiece, destined to fade?"