A soul that feels too much, a heart that whispers in fragments. Between the ache and the silence, I write what the world can't hear - the almost, the undone, the pull of hearts that collide and drift
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Stories by Unhealed soul
His curse
" Ishqi singh khurana, ahhh you'll be my death someday, My rose." He whispered under his breath.
Unspoken Scars
I wasn't supposed to fall for him.
He was the quiet, guarded boy with walls higher than his dreams.
I was the...