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Him Fooling Around
Last Updated:
2024-05-25 11:10:08
MysticAmyI'll be making it exciting from here~ ;) I hope you guys are enjoying! :')
Latest chapter
Pen & Passion Sweet and Tragic
The silence between us stretched so thin it felt like a held breath. Javier sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, head bowed slightly as if the weight of everything was pressing on his shoulders. The morning light had shifted, softer now, tracing gold against the bruises on his face.I stood by the counter, unsure whether to walk away or reach for him again. But I couldn’t move. Something in me stayed tethered—to him, to this ache that never stopped hurting.He looked up suddenly, eyes finding mine with a kind of desperation that rooted me to the floor.“Why are you still here?” His voice was low, rough, trembling at the edges. “You should’ve walked away hours ago.”“Because you looked like you needed someone to stay.”His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “And if I said I needed you?”The question tore through me. My heart kicked painfully against my ribs.“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t say things like that.”“I can’t help it,” he said, standing slowly. The exhaustion in his body did
Pen & Passion Surrender
The light filtering through the curtains woke me before I was ready. My head throbbed faintly, not from alcohol since I didn’t drink, but from everything that had happened the night before.For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to steady my breathing. My mind kept replaying it all.Javier at the door, his voice breaking as he begged me not to leave, the way his tears had soaked through my shirt.When I finally sat up, I caught sight of him in the living room.He was still asleep on the couch, one arm draped over his stomach, the blanket half slipping to the floor. The bruises on his face had darkened overnight, the dried blood at the edge of his lip stark against his skin.But even with the evidence of violence, there was something heartbreakingly innocent about him in sleep.I padded quietly to the kitchen, pouring myself a glass of water. The soft hum of the refrigerator was the only sound in the room.What was I supposed to do now?He’d said t
Pen & Passion Torn
Weeks had gone by since Joaquin visited.We agreed to meet once a week to show that we’re still a couple. But afterwards, it would just feel suffocating. We also worked professionally, but sometimes Joaquin would send gifts and would invite me out, in which I still feel uncomfortable to accept.The night was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. I had just closed my laptop after hours of editing when the doorbell rang.It startled me, not just because of the time, but because barely anyone knew where I lived.When I opened the door, the metallic scent of blood hit me first.“Javier,” I breathed out, my eyes widening. It’s been a month since I last saw him!He stood there swaying slightly, one hand gripping the doorframe. His white shirt was torn at the shoulder, a smear of blood running down his forearm. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but beneath it all, he was still Javier. Exhausted, wild-eyed, and stupidly beautiful even in this state.“Hey,” he slurred, his mouth
Pen & Passion Battlefield
The knock came just as the rain began to fall.I wasn’t expecting anyone.I had been typing for hours. Half-editing, half-writing, when the soft tapping broke through the rhythm of my thoughts. At first, I ignored it. But then it came again. Steady, deliberate. The kind of knock that didn’t belong to a stranger.My chest tightened. I already knew before I opened the door.When I did, there he was.Joaquin.He stood on my doorstep with a folder tucked under his arm and rain clinging to his hair. His white shirt was damp at the shoulders, his sleeves rolled, and his eyes—God, his eyes—looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days.For a moment, neither of us spoke. The rain filled the silence between us, that familiar sound soft and cruel all at once.“Hi,” he said finally, voice low, almost tentative.I swallowed hard, gripping the door a little tighter. “You shouldn’t be here.”“I know.” His gaze flickered past me, toward the faint light inside my house. “But I had to be.”He didn’t ask
Pen & Passion Quieter, Lonelier
The days bled together.Two weeks had passed since Javier walked out of my home, and since Joaquin and I tore each other apart with truths we weren’t ready to face.Now, the silence filled everything. It wasn’t heavy. It was worse. It was hollow. The kind of quiet that made you aware of how alone you really were.The mornings were always the same. I’d wake up in my little house to sunlight creeping through the blinds, to dust motes floating in the air, to a cup of coffee that didn’t taste like anything. I’d open my laptop and go through emails—contracts, drafts, revisions.From: Joaquin GreysonSubject: Revised editsPlease review by end of week. Thank you, Ms. Thorne._From: Haven ThorneSubject: Re: Revised editsReceived. Will send feedback soon._No warmth. No lingering words. No “Haven” without the formality.I’d stare at his name on the screen longer than I should, reading between the lines for something that wasn’t there anymore.I told myself I preferred it this way. Profession
Pen & Passion Hot and Relentless
The weight of his words pressed into me long after they were spoken, heavy and sharp, like stones I couldn’t put down.You both gave me something to hold on to. But it sucks that you’re stuck between us.I hadn’t realized I was gripping his hand so tightly until my nails dug into his skin. I eased my hold, staring down at the familiar lines of his knuckles—the same ones I used to hold when we ran through this neighborhood as kids, the same ones bloodied too many times because he’d defended me from bullies.“You’re not tolerated, Javi,” I said quietly, fiercely. “Not by me.”He scoffed, bitter, and leaned back against the couch. “Yes, I am. Don’t sugarcoat it, Haven. My father tolerated me. Joaquin’s mother tolerated me. And soon… you’ll tolerate me too. Because you love him. And that’s all I’ll ever be—someone you put up with.”The sting of his words cut deeper than I expected. My chest tightened, anger and grief tangling until I couldn’t separate them. “Don’t you dare say that. Don’t
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