the war is

the war is

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 22, 2016
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Fiction
Historical
Una volta la mia professoressa di lettere disse che "i giovani sono come fiori che cominciano a sbocciare", ma in un cielo senza sole, né acqua, che senso ha che i fiori crescano?
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"𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔" •••• "Don't lie, Amisha. I'm sick of these lies. And if you're so sure that you didn't cheat on me, then fine, let's move on to the next step,prove me you didn't cheated on me" he said, and she frowned in confusion. He realized she didn't understand his intention. "Get intimate with me, tell me that you love me, and I'll believe you. I'll believe that you're telling the truth," he said, or more precisely, made an offer. She couldn't process his words. Her heart broke as she listened to him. •••• His expression darkened, pain flickering in his eyes. "Kya kami reh gayi thi, Amisha? Sab kuch diya tha tumhe... apna dil tumharee kadmon mein rakha tha. Fir bhi tumne yeh kiya?" His words came out in a choked whisper, his composure slipping. (Was there anything I didn't give you, Amisha? I gave you everything... I placed my heart at your feet. And still, you did this) Tears gathered in his eyes, though he struggled to maintain his demeanor, reminding himself he couldn't afford to be soft. "You're hurting me," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. His eyes flickered with guilt, but he didn't let go. "And what about the hurt you caused me?I loved you, Amisha. I gave you everything. My heart, my soul... everything. And still, you didn't choose me." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You should have looked into my eyes once, it was always you Vivaan. But your jealousy... your obsession... it's destroying us."

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