Story cover for Intertwined by christylvie
Intertwined
  • WpView
    Reads 560
  • WpVote
    Votes 13
  • WpPart
    Parts 20
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 9m
  • WpView
    Reads 560
  • WpVote
    Votes 13
  • WpPart
    Parts 20
  • WpHistory
    Time 3h 9m
Complete, First published Apr 09, 2016
Our lives are woven into a one big reality. Our lives are intertwined and we are bound to cross paths with one another at some point. We can only love or curse the people that we encounter.

Vivienne Andrews set out to fulfill her dream of becoming a writer. But her adventure was something she couldn't even dream of, even as a writer. Her unlikely friendship with her neighbor Charles Scott was the perfect ingredient to spice up her bland life. She then met Julianna Reed who had her own battles to fight too. Vivienne met all kinds of people who changed her life. But who were the people that she cursed? And most of all, who were the people that she loved?
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Threads And Stitches  by cupidflakes_8
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Is love a thread or merely a stitch? Is love the deep and unbroken connection that sustains over time like a thread or a temporary hold as a stitch? ***** Some love stories are written in fire. Theirs was stitched in silence, frayed at the edges, tangled in pride, yet never truly torn apart. Vibha is the thread, steady and strong, carrying the weight of her dreams and the hopes of everyone who looks up to her. She moves through life with grace and purpose, always holding things together even when it's hard. Bhadri is the stitch. Sometimes loose. Sometimes tight. Never perfect. He wanders in and out of moments, sometimes careless, sometimes forgetful, but never unwilling to try again. She's the girl who shows up for everything and he's the boy who runs late even to his own life. She loves him like a strong thread. Not for what he could become but for who he already was beneath the clutter of his lazy world. For the heart that stitched every cut it caused slowly, sincerely. Bhadri never loved in grand gestures. He stitched. With a hand-written note slipped under her door. With her favourite tea brought to her after a long day. With the way he sat beside her, without a word, when she needed silence more than solutions. Their love story is not smooth or flawless. It's a delicate dance between holding on and healing, between breaking and binding. Because real love isn't just the endless thread that lasts. It's also the stitches. Small acts of care, quiet repairs made over and over again, the promise to stay even when things unravel. She was the thread that kept them from falling apart. He was the stitch that tried to make it whole again, every single time. This is not a perfect love story. It's a fragile one. A real one. Of threads broken, and stitches made. In between these threads and stitches, Vibha and Bhadri find their love-imperfect, enduring, and deeply theirs. ****** •South-Indian story. •May contain grammatical mistakes. •Mature content.
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Threads And Stitches

32 parts Ongoing

Is love a thread or merely a stitch? Is love the deep and unbroken connection that sustains over time like a thread or a temporary hold as a stitch? ***** Some love stories are written in fire. Theirs was stitched in silence, frayed at the edges, tangled in pride, yet never truly torn apart. Vibha is the thread, steady and strong, carrying the weight of her dreams and the hopes of everyone who looks up to her. She moves through life with grace and purpose, always holding things together even when it's hard. Bhadri is the stitch. Sometimes loose. Sometimes tight. Never perfect. He wanders in and out of moments, sometimes careless, sometimes forgetful, but never unwilling to try again. She's the girl who shows up for everything and he's the boy who runs late even to his own life. She loves him like a strong thread. Not for what he could become but for who he already was beneath the clutter of his lazy world. For the heart that stitched every cut it caused slowly, sincerely. Bhadri never loved in grand gestures. He stitched. With a hand-written note slipped under her door. With her favourite tea brought to her after a long day. With the way he sat beside her, without a word, when she needed silence more than solutions. Their love story is not smooth or flawless. It's a delicate dance between holding on and healing, between breaking and binding. Because real love isn't just the endless thread that lasts. It's also the stitches. Small acts of care, quiet repairs made over and over again, the promise to stay even when things unravel. She was the thread that kept them from falling apart. He was the stitch that tried to make it whole again, every single time. This is not a perfect love story. It's a fragile one. A real one. Of threads broken, and stitches made. In between these threads and stitches, Vibha and Bhadri find their love-imperfect, enduring, and deeply theirs. ****** •South-Indian story. •May contain grammatical mistakes. •Mature content.