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Something Fishy.
Last Updated:
2025-07-12 21:05:58
Latest chapter
Never Mine To Love Way out Of Love.
River's POVThe message sat on my screen like it was begging me for a reply. "Hey. Can we talk?" Just that, nothing more. But it was enough to make my thoughts run wild.I didn’t move. Didn’t even realize that I was actually holding my breath. My hands rested on the kitchen table, fingers still trembling from the moment before. The envelope sat next to them, open and quiet like it hadn’t just open everything I’d tried to bury.He lied to you. It never stopped. just that and all the doubts I ever had all came rushing back into my head.I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward. My forehead touched the edge of the table, the cool surface grounding me for a second. Just a second. Because everything else inside me felt like it was about to break loose. My chest hurt. Not the sharp kind of hurt, but the slow kind, the ache that just finds their way into your bones when you’ve been carrying too much for too long.The air smelled like cinnamon and old wood like always. Aunt Lydia’s hous
Never Mine To Love The Timing Of Everything.
River’s POV.Aunt Lydia had gone to work early, but she’d left a note on the kitchen counter like she always did. Her handwriting was round and neat, the kind that made everything feel warm.Morning, sweetheart. There’s soup in the fridge. Text me if you need anything. Love you.I didn’t text her.I just stood there, holding the note in my hand for a little longer than I needed to, like maybe if I stared at it long enough, it would say something else. Something more. Something that would make my chest hurt a little less.But it didn’t.I folded it carefully and placed it back where it was, next to the sugar jar with the chipped lid. Then I filled the kettle and waited for the water to boil. The quiet was heavy. Not peaceful. Just still. I felt like even the walls were holding their breath.I made tea the way Aunt Lydia taught me—black, no sugar, just a little milk. I wasn’t really craving it, but I needed to do something with my hands.Once it was ready, I took the mug and sat by the
Never Mine To Love Time-stamp.
Daniel’s POVThe courier office smelled like printer ink and dust.I stepped inside slowly, holding the envelope tight in one hand. The place was small, with white walls that needed a new coat of paint and posters taped crookedly to the windows. There was a counter in the middle with a plastic screen in front of it, and behind that stood a guy in his twenties with headphones around his neck and gum in his mouth. His name tag said “Nate.”He didn’t look up right away.Just kept clicking on something behind the screen.I stood there for a second, unsure of what to say. The envelope in my hand felt heavier than it should’ve. I hadn’t let go of it all day. I didn’t trust it out of my sight.Finally, I cleared my throat. “Hey.”The guy who I later found out his name was Nate glanced up. “Yeah?”I took a step forward. “I’m trying to find out who sent something to my house.”His eyebrows lifted. “What kind of something?”“An envelope,” I said. I held it up. “Came this morning. No return name
Never Mine To Love Something Fishy.
Ethan’s POVI was wiping the café counter for the third time, and it still wasn’t dirty.There were no customers waiting in line. No orders to make. Just soft music playing in the background and the quiet hum of the espresso machine. A couple of students were hunched over laptops in the corner. One girl was asleep on her open textbook. The place was calm, quiet.Too quiet.It gave my brain too much space to wander.I wiped the counter again.River hadn’t been home in days.Four, maybe five now? I lost track. At first, I thought he was just pulling one of his “space” things, staying out late, crashing somewhere else to clear his head. He did that sometimes. But this time felt different.He hadn’t texted.He hadn’t called.He hadn’t even come by to grab his hoodie that he always wore when he was stressed.I should’ve asked. I should’ve said something. But I didn’t.Instead, I kept pretending I didn’t notice. Kept telling myself maybe he was just busy. Or maybe he needed air. Or maybe it
Never Mine To Love Same Proof
Daniel’s POVI didn’t think.I just pressed the gas.The tires squealed beneath me as I turned the car around, engine roaring like it felt my panic too. I barely saw the road. Cars blurred past. Honking, flashing lights—I couldn’t focus on any of it. My hand gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles went white.I needed to get home.Now.My thoughts were racing faster than the car. The photo. The message. The threat. It played in my head over and over like a broken loop. River’s hand in my hair. My face close to his. That kiss, caught, frozen in time and now in someone else’s hands.Sent to my house.To Olivia.I cursed under my breath and hit the accelerator harder.“Come on, come on, come on…”She couldn’t see it. Not like this. Not now. Not ever, if I could help it.There were too many cars. Too many red lights. The world felt like it was slowing down on purpose, dragging every second out longer than the last. I leaned forward in my seat like I could force time to bend for me.Please,
Never Mine To Love Courier Service.
Daniel’s POVOlivia had stopped speaking to me unless she absolutely had to.She still made coffee in the mornings. Still packed lunches, folded the laundry, left lights on for me when she went to bed first. But the warmth was gone. The casual ease. The unspoken closeness that makes sharing a home feel less like logistics and more like life.Now, everything she did felt tight. Measured. Carefully calculated to avoid unnecessary conversation. She moved like someone who was always just about to leave.And she never touched me anymore.Not even by accident. Not when reaching for the kettle, or brushing past in the kitchen, or walking by the couch when I was sitting there. She kept a distance like I was contagious.I’d tried to bridge it. I’d tried knocking gently on her office door when the house was quiet. I’d made her tea one night without her asking, and left it beside her with a soft, “Here.” I even tried sitting near her on the couch, saying her name gently, trying to talk about not
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