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To My Dearest Roo

To My Dearest Roo

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WpMetadataReadÎn curs de desfăşurare<5 min
WpMetadataNoticeUltima publicare mie, dec 11, 2024
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Ficțiune
Dragoste
Highschool
Slice of Life
I never set out to find love, and honestly, I wasn't even sure I believed in it. The very thought of it used to annoy me. Could something as sweet as described in my mother's books even be real? I used to think fate was just something people blamed when they couldn't explain coincidence. It has this way of quietly pulling people together when we least expect it. I was never someone who craved love- or so I thought. You came crashing into my life-literally-and, without warning, I realized that I was looking forward to hearing your voice, to seeing your smile, and to witness your laughter. Somewhere along the way, my days started feeling incomplete whenever you weren't around. I had no idea that simply knowing you were happy could make my heart feel lighter, or that seeing that happiness in you would bring me a joy I didn't know I could feel. In a way, I suppose that's when I knew. You would be the only recipient to the love and ink that bleeds on my pen, be the only one I would dare to address as my dearest; My Dearest Roo. ®️ ️13+ ©️ To My Dearest Roo - @reibonnie
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You never expected your parents to abandon you at the age of sixteen, and if it wasn't for the man your parents took in when you were ten, you would have been completely alone. Even after a year, you still half-expected them to come back. Your seventeenth birthday came and went with only two people to celebrate it, and you weren't related to either of them. Then came your eighteenth with the same two people. Your hobbies carried you through the loneliness that you found yourself in-although, your guardian told you again and again that ghost hunting wasn't a hobby. When a string of murders ravaged your town, your interest in both the paranormal and technology came in handy. If it wasn't for you, the case would never have been solved, and you never would have brought someone back from the dead, even if he did torture you with his embarrassingly truthful compliments and flirtatious lines. (this is a work of fiction. all the Pastas belong to their original creators. they are not real, nor am i saying that they are. the only thing i own is the plot and any OCs. please do not re-write my work. this is not a romanticisation.)

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