Carried by the Wind
- Reads 229
- Votes 18
- Parts 4
MatureOngoing24m
Last published Sat, Apr 1, 2017
"We have the privilege of indulging in the most base of human instinct - why refuse?" Julian looked at me from under his ashen eyelashes as he leaned back in the divan with the cotton ball dog in his lap. His voice was hoarse from the opium, his lips cracked. I couldn't help finding him even more beautiful this way. Golden locks fell around the sides of his face. His mouth still smudged with blood. I needed to kiss him.
Elika has perfected the art of passivity. Bent to her mother's every wish, quiet as the dust gathering on the floor boards. With Farid entering her mother's life, the dark tangle of her past begins to unfold.
They are the forgotten, the brutal, the sensual. Julian inscribed it on her body, burned it into the back of her corneas. His touch seared her skin, the weight of his presence crushed her chest, the way he inhaled her skin tore at her ghost. For him she would do anything. It's been said that the one truly unforgivable crime is matricide. No one is more loving than mother.
This is the demon mother created.
Mature, vulgar language. Horror, erotic, noir.
My first story after a ten year break *phew* Anxiety levels at maximum.
Updates every week.
Criticism welcome.
For your pleasure, each chapter has a song.
Please vote, share, comment and add to library!
Cover photo by Michalina Wozniak, used with permission.
All Rights Reserved
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BOOK ONE Coming out was supposed to set Julian free. Instead, it left him with a broken arm, a mother who won't stop preaching, and a silence that grows heavier every day. High school feels like a cage, and Julian is certain he doesn't belong anywhere-until Paul crashes into his world. With his inked skin, effortless charm, and a following that makes him untouchable, Paul should be the last person Julian lets close. Loving Paul means risking exposure, rejection, and heartbreak all over again. Worse, it means facing the cruelest voice of all-the one inside Julian's own head. Tender, raw, and unflinching, Open is a story about first love, first heartbreak, and finding the courage to believe you're worthy of both. ::: I could feel it when his body finally went slack, when he'd fallen asleep and soft snores emitted. And I thought I was getting better at this breaking down thing... I honestly did but when I was alone, I seemed to fall apart. Endless serenades of how worthless I'd been and how destructive I was; I was a disappointment to literally everyone and I hated it. My breathing became shallow as I cried for the second time that day, finally feeling content being immersed in guilt. A shudder wracked through my body, tears escaping and Paul pulled me closer as he woke silently. Mumbling soft nothings against my skin and kissing it to slow my breathing, he tried to lull me to sleep, "It's okay, you're okay." Refusing to speak -my voice failing me- his arm came up to wrap around my shoulder and I held him there, placing a small kiss to his tattooed skin in a broken sign of gratitude, I must've run out of tears. And I felt at ease.
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