9 parts Ongoing Maturewelcome 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.
