Novels by I'm Eugenia

When I walked into my apartment that evening, I half-expected him to be there.It was ridiculous, honestly. The way my heart lifted—just a little—before crashing right back into my chest like a stone in water. The room was empty. Too empty. The kind of empty that echoed. I’d never realized silence could hurt, but tonight it did. It pressed into my skin, crawled into my lungs, settled into my bones.I dropped my bag on the floor and just… stood there.Everything felt wrong. The air. The light. The familiar walls. As if the world had been rearranged while I wasn’t looking. As if something huge had cracked open inside me, and now I didn’t know how to stitch it back together.I sat on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, hands buried in my hair. Trying. Trying so damn hard to remember.That voice.That place.That person.I knew them. I am sure I knew them. Not the way you know a stranger in a dream—no. This was deeper. Older. As if a part of me recognized them before I even turned aro

The world tilted—just slightly at first—before the noise came rushing back. The hum of the espresso machine. The faint hiss of milk steaming. The clatter of a spoon.And then—her voice.“A latte with almond milk,” the woman at the counter said, tapping her nails impatiently against the glass.I blinked. The sudden clarity burned. I was standing behind the counter, apron on, hands trembling slightly, as though the air itself had just spat me back into existence.“I—uh, right. Almond milk,” I stammered, forcing myself into motion. My heart pounded. The world around me looked too bright, too ordinary, too real.I moved on instinct—grabbed a cup, poured, steamed, frothed, smiled like nothing was wrong. But everything was wrong.When I handed the drink to her, she took one sip and immediately shrieked, “What the hell is this? Almond milk, bitch! What’s this crap you gave me?”The cup hit the counter hard. I flinched.“I—I’m sorry,” I said quickly, reaching for the cup, trying to calm her d

Nothing had prepared me for what I found myself in.It felt like the world had folded in on itself — the café, the laughter, even the smell of coffee all gone. The air was still, too still, and every breath I took sounded like it echoed into forever.Everywhere was empty—hollow, yet humming with a strange, unseen energy. The air was thick, almost alive, as if the space itself breathed. Then I heard it—my name, carried on a whisper that bent through the silence.“…Nanya… Nanya…”I turned sharply, scanning the endless void. Nothing. The voice came again. "...Nanya...." closer this time, familiar enough to make my heart twist.“Claire?” I whispered.From the shadows, she stepped forward—but this wasn’t the Claire I knew. My Claire laughed too loud, spilled coffee on her apron, and wore chaos like perfume. This Claire… moved with purpose. Every step echoed, commanding the space. Dressed entirely in black, her eyes glowed faintly, sharp and cold. Power radiated off her like heat. This Cla

Finally, I’m genuinely happy.This—this is the way it should be. Peace. Happiness. Everything good. For once, it feels like the world has stopped spinning against me, and I can breathe without guilt weighing down my lungs.Since my childhood, I’ve carried a burden too heavy for small shoulders—the guilt of my parents’ separation. It’s strange how something you never chose can still define every piece of you. I wasn’t even supposed to exist. I was the mistake that refused to disappear. The stubborn seed that survived the morning-after pill, clinging to life even when no one wanted me to. And because of that one act of defiance—simply existing—I became the reason two confused teenagers had to grow up too fast.My mother paid the price first. Her parents disowned her, and she was left standing alone in a world that suddenly seemed too cruel, too cold. My father stayed for a while, but the weight of it all—poverty, disappointment, resentment—crushed him until he walked away too. And someh

The streets were painted in the bruised colors of dusk when I stepped out of the café, keys jingling in my hand. The evening air was crisp, cool enough to raise goosebumps on my arms, but my chest felt strangely light. For once, there were no omens, no strange energy pulsing under my skin. Just the ordinary hum of a world that didn’t seem to be ending. I was halfway down the street when I saw him. Leaning against a sleek black car like he’d been sculpted there, Damian looked maddeningly out of place under the soft streetlight. No storms this time, no shadows swallowing him whole. Just him—in jeans, a plain white shirt, and a look that made the air forget how to move. My heart did that stupid somersault again. “Are you stalking me now?” I said, stopping a few feet away. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s a felony.” He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You talk too much for someone who’s supposed to be terrified of me.” “I got over that,” I shot back. “Turns o

The morning sunlight spilled through the café’s front window, throwing golden stripes across the floor. For once, it didn’t feel like an accusation. It felt… earned.I pushed open the door with my hip, balancing two trays of freshly brewed coffee and the remains of my last nerve.“Good morning, world,” I muttered, forcing a grin as the bell jingled overhead. “Let’s try not to destroy me today, yeah?”The universe, of course, ignored me.“Onaha!” my boss barked from behind the espresso machine. Mr. Kurt was in his usual state of mild combustion—tie crooked, face flushed, and eyes twitching like he hadn’t slept since 1999. “Where were you? I needed those muffins five minutes ago!”I dropped the trays on the counter with a smirk. “Technically, I was here five minutes ago. Time is just… subjective.”His jaw twitched. “Don’t start with your philosophy nonsense.”“Fine,” I said cheerfully, tying my apron. “I’ll just start with caffeine. For both of us.”Claire appeared from the back room, h