A Second Chance To Make The Things Right

A Second Chance To Make The Things Right

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WpMetadataReadPer adultiIn corso5h 23m
WpMetadataNoticeUltima pubblicazione gio, mag 2, 2024
"I love you "--Fourth "No you can't. Don't waste your time on me cause I'm already dead "--Gemini _____________ Norawit Gemini, He was dead. Dead by soul. He had lost his reason to live at a very young age. Now he was a nothing but a living dead. But Nattawat Fourth? He was a very soulful , bubbly and kind person. He fell in love with that dead soul and swore to make him alive all over again. Despite all the consequences... But how far would Fourth success ? Or not at all ? Why don't you guys find out ... ⛔️Warning ⛔️ This is a homosexual fanfiction means boy x boy.. So some contents from this fanfiction you might not like. I suggest you don't read if you are homophobic or not really fond of gay romance ... °mature scene °cursing °self harming °little fluff °messy story line °mpreg °lots of butterflies
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Time has a way of rewriting people. What once felt unshakable fades into something softer, tucked between years of deadlines, fleeting smiles, and carefully built routines. What once burned like a secret fire becomes an echo that you carry quietly, until one day, you stop noticing that it still warms you in the dark. Gemini Norawit Titicharoenrak had mastered the art of control. Every decision calculated, every step measured, every word polished until it gleamed. To the world, he was exactly what he had always wanted to be: successful, reliable, impossible to read. To himself, he was fine-at least, that's what he kept telling the mirror every morning. Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul was not supposed to be part of his story anymore. Not after the way things ended. Not after the silence that stretched between them like years of missed chances. But life has a cruel sense of humor. Or maybe it was kindness, disguised as coincidence. Because sometimes, the people you thought you'd lost return when you least expect them-older, changed, and yet, impossibly familiar. And when paths cross again, the question isn't whether the past will matter. It's whether the heart, restless as it is, dares to begin again.

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