ALMOST LOVE
- Reads 15
- Votes 0
- Parts 5
Some loves are loud.
Ours was a whisper.
No one knew. Not really.
To the world, we were just two people passing through each other's lives. A glance too long. A pause too deep. An almost-touch. An almost-love.
But behind the silence, behind every excuse and every fear, was a truth we never dared to say out loud:
I loved him.
And he loved me.
But not enough.
Not enough to choose me.
Not enough to fight.
Not enough to stay.
So we lived in the in-between - where hands never fully reached, and hearts always held back. Where timing was always wrong, and courage never showed up when it mattered most.
And this is not a story of how we found our way to each other.
It's the story of how we almost did.
The story of a love that bloomed in secret,
but died in silence.
This is the story of me and Idris.
The story of almost.
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
SHIDDAT -E- ISHQ: TALE OF FORBIDDEN LOVE
I was only nine when my life changed forever. I was sold like an object; all of my cries were ignored as if they meant nothing. I meant nothing. That night, I learned that in this world, I had no value -- not as a child and not as human as well. So, I learned to survive on my own. Later years were even cruel. I was sold and tossed from one hand to another. I was taught to obey, to smile when I wanted to cry, to bury my pain deep inside. Love? Happiness? Those were words that didn't exist in my world. All I knew was how to survive. And when I lost all of my hopes of survival as well, he came. He didn't just look at me, he saw me. He made me feel something I never felt before. I saw a spark of hope in him, but hope is dangerous. I am dangerous and not something meant for love. I want him to stay away from me because I don't want him to burn with me in the same fire. I need him to stop and save himself from this forbidden love. I can never be his and person like him are not meant to be mine. I am Sandhya and this is my story of Love and Freedom from those who call themselves my master.![Broken Hearts (Brooklyn Beckham) [editing]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/26982468-256-k606265.jpg)
Broken Hearts (Brooklyn Beckham) [editing]
He was like fire. You could stare at him forever, but so dangerous to touch and play with. He was like a song I couldn't get out of my head. Hard as I tried, the melody of our meeting run through my mind on an endless loop, each time as surprisingly sweet as the last, like a lullaby, like a hymn, and I couldn't think I could ever get tired of hearing it. But, he put me down when I needed him more than ever. When no one was there for me. And that's when I know it's over. As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it's the end. Sometimes loneliness makes the loudest noise. After losing him, everything went black and white. All I was thinking about was one thing. I became weaker every single moment. I was so much in pain. I screamed so loud, But no one heard a thing. All the spaces between us, kept getting deeper. I fell so deep. But he didn't even reach out a hand for me to hold...Complete
THAT ONE NIGHT LOVE
It was just one night. One room. No promises. No confessions. Just two people- who should've walked away. But something about the way they looked at each other... The way silence held more meaning than words ever could... Made that night less of a mistake and more of a memory neither body could forget. Now, two years later, they're back. In the same city. Under different names. Carrying the same ache. She has someone new. He almost moved on. But love doesn't always announce itself- sometimes it just lingers. What happens when: - a closed room remembers what the world forced them to forget? - bodies touch again, but hearts hesitate harder? - one mug, one bed, one white shirt brings everything rushing back? "Unfinished things don't die. They wait. In bedrooms like this - with people like us." 🌙 A poetic, slow-burn Hinglish story. Of what was never said, what was never supposed to happen, and what still might - if they dare. Read if you like: ✨ Emotionally mature tension ✨ Silent glances louder than love letters ✨ Bedroom intimacy with poetic restraint ✨ Chapters that feel like old voice notes you never deleted 📌 New Chapters Every day 📍 Instagram + Wattpad Exclusives 💬 Comment "I've been there" if you've ever left a room and still felt touchedComplete
Almost, Always 🍁🥀
"Almost, Always" 🍁🌹 Some people enter your life like whispers...soft, sudden, and gone before you can hold on. She didn't expect to see him again. Not after years, not like this. Not when she had finally learned how to forget the boy who never truly left her mind. But fate isn't loud..it's quiet, casual... cruel. In a classroom filled with noise, their glances screamed stories. A slow-burn connection, unsaid words, and almosts that could've been everything. This is not a fairytale. This is a memory rewritten..with the ending she deserved.
And Still, I loved you.
They were never supposed to meet again, but fate had other plans. They were never strangers. They just became people who knew everything about each other, Except how to fix what they broke. She loved him like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. He left like he couldn't feel it. Years passed. Cities changed. Names got softer on unfamiliar lips. But silence never erased the way they ended. And when fate threw them back into the same room, One bleeding, Other one breaking, The past didn't knock. It kicked the door down. This is not a story of falling in love. It's what happens after.
SMARTBOOM - FORBIDDEN PASSION
"What are you doing in here?" Boom's voice. was low, clipped, but not loud enough to draw attention outside. Smart didn't answer. He stepped closer, then closer, and before Boom could retreat, Smart wrapped his arms around him from behind, slow, careful, but deliberate. Boom went rigid. His breath caught. Smart lowered his head just slightly, lips hovering near Boom's ear. "I just want to talk." Some ghosts don't haunt you. They wait for you to come back. ⚠️ Content Warning: 🔞 The story Contains mature themes, explicit content and references to a complex past. This is a story of emotional aftermath, forbidden love, and navigating trauma years later. All characters in the present timeline are adults. Reader discretion is strongly advised. After years of silence, Smart walks into a job interview hoping to forget the past but fate has other plans. One look at the man across the table is enough to bring it all rushing back. A name he thought he'd never hear again. A face he was never meant to see. A past neither of them has truly left behind. In a world built on secrets and appearances, what happens when buried truths start to resurface? And how do you protect what's forbidden... when it never stopped feeling right? Slow-burn | LGBTQ+ | Emotional healing | Forbidden past. Characters are fictional. Images used for visual inspiration only - no affiliation with the real individuals.Complete
The Guy I Could Never Have
Some people arrive quietly. No fireworks. No background music. Just a look. A name. A violet shirt in a white room. You don't realize it's the start. Not until you're too far in. I didn't fall for him the way stories say you should. There was no moment of knowing. Just a slow ache that built between library tables and half-finished coffee cups. The kind of love that feels like a question no one teaches you how to ask. We were never official. Never obvious. We were playlists. Eye contact. A sentence that almost sounded like confession-until it didn't. And somewhere in that space between almost and never, I became someone I didn't recognize. Someone quieter. Smaller. And then... someone who walked away. This is not a story about the guy I ended up with. This is about the one I couldn't have. The one who arrived too late. The one who taught me that not all love stories need a happy ending- Some just need a girl who finally chooses herself. And this time, I did.Complete
October.
welcome to this story. i don't really know what it is yet - maybe it's a love story, maybe it's a confession, maybe it's just pages full of everything i couldn't say out loud. i didn't plan on writing this. it didn't start with a perfect idea or a cup of coffee or one of those playlists that make you cry at 2am. it started with her. with the stories we used to make up at night - the kind you whisper before falling asleep, soft and half-real. it became a tradition, something small but ours. she once told me i should post them on wattpad. i laughed it off. and when everything ended, i thought... why not? so i wrote this. not to bring her back, but to remember what it felt like when words still meant us. when everything was new and fragile and maybe too much. when love didn't start in a crowded room, but in a glowing screen, where two people who were never supposed to meet somehow did - through an app, a message, a spark that became a story. i wrote it like someone trying to hold on and let go at the same time. like someone who keeps rewriting moments in their head, wondering if things could've been different. this isn't perfect. it won't have clean chapters or a happy ending tied with a bow. it's about feeling too much and saying too little. about loving someone quietly and wondering if they ever noticed. about the distance between what we feel and what we dare to say. and now you're here. reading this. which means maybe, just maybe, you've felt this too. maybe you've loved someone who was never really yours. maybe you've turned your pain into fiction just to make it hurt less. maybe you understand. so... welcome. to the story that wasn't supposed to be a story. to the chaos and the softness and the things left unsaid. so welcome to the story where Gio meets Élise through an app - and what starts as curiosity turns into something raw, magnetic, and impossible to name. where midnight messages become confessions, and distance becomes both a wall and a thread.
I was only nine when my life changed forever. I was sold like an object; all of my cries were ignored as if they meant nothing. I meant nothing. That night, I learned that in this world, I had no value -- not as a child and not as human as well. So, I learned to survive on my own. Later years were even cruel. I was sold and tossed from one hand to another. I was taught to obey, to smile when I wanted to cry, to bury my pain deep inside. Love? Happiness? Those were words that didn't exist in my world. All I knew was how to survive. And when I lost all of my hopes of survival as well, he came. He didn't just look at me, he saw me. He made me feel something I never felt before. I saw a spark of hope in him, but hope is dangerous. I am dangerous and not something meant for love. I want him to stay away from me because I don't want him to burn with me in the same fire. I need him to stop and save himself from this forbidden love. I can never be his and person like him are not meant to be mine. I am Sandhya and this is my story of Love and Freedom from those who call themselves my master.
More detailsContent Guidelines