Offline,one day

Offline,one day

Reads 13
Votes 0
Parts 2

MatureOngoing<5 mins

Last published Fri, Mar 28, 2025

They say that some stories don't need a happy ending to be beautiful. Sometimes, the most intense loves are the ones that burn quickly but leave behind echoes that never fade. That's how our story was. We found each other in a corner of the internet, where words became the bridge between two souls that might have never met otherwise. From cold screens and late-night messages, we built a universe of our own. One smile exchanged over a video call, one night spent sharing our dreams, and suddenly, everything took shape. In the end, reality was no longer enough without each other's presence. Our meeting felt like a dream caught between two worlds-the virtual and the real. We laughed, we cried, we loved. We learned to hold hands through storms and to lift each other up when life knocked us down. But perhaps some stories are meant to be lessons, not destinations. Our paths have parted, yet I remain trapped in that story, in the memory of days when love felt like it would last forever. You moved on, continued your life, while I stayed here, lost in memories, hoping that one day, your steps might lead you back to me. But stories like ours never truly end, do they?

All Rights Reserved

Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.

You may also like

In the Name of Obsession

She first met him in a therapy group for trauma survivors. He didn't speak much, but his eyes lingered too long, as though he could peel back her skin and read every wound carved into her bones. She told herself it was wrong, that she should avoid him, but the silence between them became magnetic. When they finally spoke, it wasn't gentle. It was raw. He told her he saw the same madness in her that lived inside him, the same hunger to feel something sharp, something real. Their first kiss tasted like blood-his lip split when she bit too hard, and instead of stopping, he pulled her closer. Soon, their nights together blurred between sex and confession. They carved secrets into each other's skin, whispered things no one else could ever hear. But his love was never safe-it was possessive, suffocating, like drowning in warm water. He wanted to break her just to put her back together. She wanted to burn in him until nothing of herself remained. The deeper they sank, the less they could tell the difference between passion and violence, between devotion and destruction. She began seeing him in places he couldn't possibly be-in mirrors, in her dreams, in the shadows of her room. He said he was inside her now, that their bond was irreversible. When her therapist asked about the bruises on her neck, she smiled and said nothing. Because the truth was this: she didn't want to be saved. She wanted to be consumed. And so she let him.

Content Guidelines