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I Think I'm Ready
Last Updated:
2025-11-17 09:08:07
MysticAmyAnd we're back Monday! We will be ending the story on Friday. :') So I hope you guys enjoyed it even though you came this far? :'(
Latest chapter
Pen & Passion Real
The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting thin stripes of gold across my desk.Jessy was already gone, her absence marked only by a sticky note stuck to the coffee machine.You survived the dinner. Now tell me everything later.A doodled winky face followed, of course.I smiled to myself, peeling it off. Typical Jessy. Even her notes had personality.I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat by my desk, laptop open but untouched. My cursor blinked on the blank document like it was waiting for me to fill it with something profound.But my mind wasn’t on work.It kept circling back to last night. The restaurant’s dim glow, the sound of rain outside, the way Joaquin looked at me when he said, “It feels like a beginning.”No promises, no dramatics. Just that quiet honesty that lingered long after he drove away.I’d told myself for months that I didn’t want to choose, that I wasn’t ready. But maybe what I really meant was that I didn’t trust myself enough to believe I could
Pen & Passion I Think I'm Ready
A week slipped by before I realized it.Between unpacking, catching up on work, and easing back into my writing routine, the noise in my head had finally settled. My days found rhythm again.Quiet mornings with coffee, afternoons buried in edits, and evenings spent with Jessy and Ethan, who had practically moved into my apartment these days.It was comfortable. Normal.Tonight, the three of us were gathered around my kitchen island, half-eating, half-working. Jessy was scrolling through social media while Ethan typed something furiously on his laptop, occasionally glancing up to answer her random questions.“Okay, explain this,” Jessy said suddenly, tapping her phone. “Why do people tag their exes in nostalgic posts? Like, do they want closure or a lawsuit?”Ethan groaned. “You can’t analyze every sad post on the internet.”“Sure I can. It’s free entertainment.”I laughed softly, pushing away my plate. “Maybe they’re trying to say what they can’t anymore.”Jessy looked at me knowingly
Pen & Passion Finally Okay
By the time the plane landed at JFK, it was almost midnight.New York was wrapped in a thin fog, the kind that blurred the skyline into silver outlines against the dark. Through the oval window, I could see the wet shimmer of the tarmac reflecting the city lights—familiar and distant all at once.The moment I stepped out of the terminal, the chill hit me. Crisp, sharp, and clean. I’d forgotten how cold spring nights in New York could be.I pulled my coat tighter and wheeled my suitcase toward the exit, intending to grab a cab and get home before two. Jessy had texted earlier: Call me when you land. Don’t make me track your flight again.I smiled faintly. That sounded exactly like her.Just as I was reaching for my phone, it buzzed in my hand.From: Joaquin“I’m outside.”I blinked, staring at the screen. He wasn’t supposed to be here.Looking up, I scanned the glass doors leading to the pickup area and there he was, standing just beyond the automatic doors, dressed in black, hands in h
Pen & Passion Wasn't the Same Woman
The morning light filtered through the hotel curtains like a soft whisper.I hadn’t slept much, but I didn’t feel tired either. The kind of calm I woke up to wasn’t the absence of exhaustion—it was the kind that comes when you’ve said everything that needed saying.The symposium had ended the night before. My flight home was scheduled for that evening, which meant I had a few quiet hours left to breathe in Kyoto one last time.On the bedside table sat a small vase of lilies—a gift from the symposium organizers. A note rested beside it, printed neatly on a card: “Thank you for your words.”I smiled. My words—the very thing I used to doubt most—had reached people halfway across the world.I made coffee, checked my emails, replied to messages from fellow writers, and reread the kind words from Professor Hayashi.“You reminded us that truth is also art. Continue writing with that heart, Ms. Thorne.”I could almost hear his calm voice saying it.After a while, I decided to step out for a sh
Pen & Passion Thank You
The hum of the plane was soft, steady—almost like a heartbeat.Through the window, the clouds stretched endlessly, the sunrise painting streaks of pink and gold across them. It was beautiful, in that fragile, distant way you can’t touch.It had been years since I’d traveled alone. Before, I was always running from something—from heartbreak, from failure, from the noise of everything I couldn’t control. But this time, I wasn’t running. I was going toward something.When the captain announced our descent, my hands trembled slightly against the armrest. The city appeared below—orderly, quiet, breathtaking. Kyoto glimmered like a watercolor, rooftops framed by mountains and trees just beginning to blush with spring.As soon as I stepped out of the terminal, I felt the difference. The air was cool and crisp, scented faintly with green tea and rain. Announcements echoed softly in Japanese and English. A few travelers passed, their movements graceful and unhurried.I stood there for a moment,
Pen & Passion Just Felt Ready
The days leading up to my trip felt strangely peaceful—almost too peaceful.For the first time in a long while, my mornings didn’t start with frantic deadlines or emotional exhaustion. Just the quiet hum of life returning to something that almost felt normal.When I woke up that Friday, the scent of coffee drifted from the kitchen. Jessy was already there, hair tied in a messy bun, humming off-key to a pop song while flipping pancakes. Ethan sat at the counter with his laptop open, half-working, half-smiling every time she burned one.“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Jessy called without looking up. “We thought we’d let you rest before we start Operation Japan.”I rubbed my eyes, suppressing a yawn. “Operation Japan?”“Packing. Styling. Mental preparation. You know, the essentials,” she said, proudly sliding a slightly overcooked pancake onto a plate.Ethan looked up from his screen, smirking. “Translation: she’s been making lists since six a.m.”Jessy threw him a glare. “Some people take s
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