Story cover for A Wandering Story by sonya100
A Wandering Story
  • WpView
    Reads 89
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    Parts 9
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 30m
  • WpView
    Reads 89
  • WpVote
    Votes 4
  • WpPart
    Parts 9
  • WpHistory
    Time 2h 30m
Ongoing, First published Jul 06, 2024
Mature
One morning, a young woman awoke-still caught in the same endless cycle that had haunted her for lifetimes. Her day began as it always did: quiet, methodical, devoted to mending the broken world she currently called home.

But then she heard voices-unfamiliar, echoing through the area she had just stabilized.

Two boys emerged, no older than nineteen. One moved with the graceful poise of a dancer, his frame lithe and fluid. The other stood taller, his presence grounded, more rugged in strength. They looked out of place here... or perhaps, exactly right.

The young woman paused, heart stilled.

Something had shifted.

The universe, long fractured, was ready to heal.

But what would unfold in these uncertain, weary days to come?

Well... that remains to be seen, doesn't it?
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Fixing Celia

35 parts Ongoing

They say betrayal never comes from your enemies. I used to think that was just something people said to feel better about their broken hearts. Until mine shattered too. The night it happened, everything changed. I lost my best friend. I lost my boyfriend. But worst of all... I lost myself. It's funny how a single moment can split your life into before and after. Before, I was the girl who believed in love, in loyalty, in forever. After, I was the girl standing in the ruins of what used to be her world, gasping for air, screaming into the silence, wondering why. Why me? Why now? Why them? So, I ran. Packed what was left of me and left the pieces behind-what else could I do? I moved cities. Moved in with my cousin. I told myself I needed a break, a fresh start. I told myself I wasn't looking for anyone. I was here to rebuild, quietly, carefully. Just me and the pain that still lived under my skin. But then... I saw him. At the club. Dark suit. Brooding eyes. Hands in his pockets like the world bowed at his feet. He didn't just walk in; he owned the room. The kind of man who didn't need to speak to be heard. I didn't know his name. I didn't know his story. But I felt his eyes on me like a touch that burned. He was power. He was danger. He was everything I told myself to avoid. But as fate would have it, the man who never chased anyone... noticed the broken girl who stopped believing in love. And maybe-just maybe-he'd be the one to help me believe again. This is the story of how I broke... And how he found every shattered piece.