Fading Echoes
  • LECTURAS 1,670
  • Votos 233
  • Partes 6
  • LECTURAS 1,670
  • Votos 233
  • Partes 6
Continúa, Has publicado jun 06, 2024
Within the quiet solitude of her art studio, Eva stood amidst a whirlwind of emotions, her brush strokes echoing the turmoil within her soul. The canvas before her bore the weight of years spent entwined with Liam, the gentle musician who had once been the melody to her chaotic symphony. Yet, as the colors bled across the surface, so too did the painful truth: their love, once vibrant and consuming, had fractured beyond repair. It was here, amidst the remnants of their shared past, that Eva found herself facing the inevitable - the bittersweet unraveling of a bond she had thought would withstand the test of time.

Follow the journey of Eva and Liam as they navigate the turbulent waters of romance and resilience. From the vibrant streets of the city to the quiet solace of art studios and music halls, their story unfolds with raw emotion and undeniable passion. Will they find solace in the echoes of their past, or will their love fade into mere memories? 

**THIS STORY IS WRITTEN IN FILIPINO**
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Two young souls collided, like stars destined to burn brighter in each other's orbit. She had once believed the world to be nothing more than a cruel stage- a place where hearts break quietly, a place where even dreams came to die. Her life, a canvas brushed in ashen hues- black and grey, hollow and cold, like winter clinging to the bones of spring. "It's alright," she'd whisper, a fragile lie worn smooth by repetition, a prayer murmured into the dark, hoping one day it might echo back as truth. And then- he came. A sunbeam in human form, with laughter that cracked open the sky, He moved like dawn across her silence, streaking her sorrow with colors unnamed- crimson hope, amber laughter, violet dreams. He turned her world on its axis, not with thunder, but with tenderness- brushing light into her shadows, breathing warmth into her frozen soul. He loved her like dawn loves the edges of night- softly, patiently, brushing away the dark with golden fingertips. To him, she was a masterpiece, carved from the remnants of storms, a creation too exquisite to ever be lost Her soul, a galaxy he wandered barefoot, tracing starpaths through her silence, gathering her fragments like fallen petals- never to fix, only to marvel. But love is not always enough. Not when the past clings like dusk, refusing the dawn. Not when tomorrow feels too distant to reach. Not when wounds bloom anew beneath tender hands. Not when love begins to ache more than it mends. When will be the time that saying "it's alright" will not be a lie?
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