A heart Unspoken

A heart Unspoken

  • WpView
    LECTURES 24
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 10
WpMetadataReadTerminé mer., juin 25, 202526m
t's never easy to tell if you're in love. Not all love stories start with a spark-some are quiet, some are loud, some last only a moment, and some... words could never truly describe. Mine isn't a love story. But if it were, it'd be the quiet kind-the kind that worms its way into your heart slowly. The kind where you can never quite tell if it's love... or something else entirely. It wasn't a fairytale. It wasn't even a love story, really. Just a boy with a jovial smile, a feeling I never dared name, and a silence that stretched across years. But when the past finds me again, the unfinished story of my heart refuses to stay quiet. A Heart Unspoken is a tender, soul-searching journey through the fragile space between friendship and love-the kind of love that never made it to the surface... but never really left.
Tous Droits Réservés
#975
loveletter
WpChevronRight
Rejoignez la plus grande communauté de conteursObtiens des recommandations personnalisées d'histoires, enregistre tes préférées dans ta bibliothèque, commente et vote pour développer ta communauté.
Illustration

Vous aimerez aussi

  • To the Boy Who Made Me Feel Everything
  • Was it meant to be!?
  • In Between Us
  • The Ex
  • Unrequited love
  • MaNan: Fate Of True Love (Completed)
  • Destined to be Together
  • Part 2 : His Silence, My Storm - Drowning In Hope
  • Someone Like Him
  • The Guy I Could Never Have

Some stories begin with a kiss. Ours began with a handshake and silence. He wasn't supposed to mean anything-just a classmate, a stranger, a passing name. But somehow, he became the boy who made me feel everything. The one I texted when I didn't know what to say. The one I looked for in crowded rooms without meaning to. The one who sat beside me once on a bus...and never really left. This isn't a perfect love story. There were no grand gestures, no dramatic declarations, and no promises. Just two people, slowly breaking and becoming, in a world that never stopped moving. He wasn't mine. But he felt like home.

Plus d’Infos
WpActionLinkDirectives de Contenu