Can Romantic Quotes For Boyfriend Strengthen Your Bond?

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.

I had stayed up all night to get the merchandise. It was then callously discarded by my boyfriend. On that stormy day, I knelt beside a dumpster and searched through bags of trash. Yarden Scott stopped in his tracks. “What are you looking for?” “My merch.” I did not look up. “I reminded you three times. It was in the left drawer of the sideboard.” His shirt was soaked from the rain. He subconsciously said, “Yvonne’s car broke down. I went to pick her up. I forgot.” He forgot. Last week, he threw away the commemorative ticket stubs I had stayed up all night organizing because he thought they were scraps of paper. The month before, he threw away the brooch my grandmother left me because he thought it was an old button. Every single time, he brushed it off with the same excuse. I gave a mocking smile. “You always remember everything when it comes to Yvonne, don’t you?” Yarden carefully wiped the hair tie Yvonne Jordan had left behind and answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s your best friend. That means I have to treat her very well. “If I keep her happy, our relationship will last. Isn’t it all for your sake?” I watched his practiced movements and felt completely drained. I could not say another word. I had reminded him countless times before not to touch the drawers in my study. He ignored me and threw away my collection of rare stamps. I told him again and again that I was allergic to mangoes. At a group dinner, he still ordered a mango shake for me. But when Yvonne casually mentioned that she had trouble sleeping, he started sending her music to help her sleep every single day. If Yvonne wanted to eat at her favorite restaurant, he would pull every string he could to get a reservation. To him, everything about me was a burden. Everything about Yvonne was worth his time. If that were the case, then I should not bother him any longer.

"She's mine. Of all the storage rooms in all the world, she has to walk up to mine. Even when she can't see me, she senses me. And every time she runs away from me, she ends up coming into my arms. She'll be punished. Then, she'll understand. Once a Lycan finds his mate, nothing in this world, nothing supernatural or human, will stop me from making her mine." My boyfriend isn’t human, not completely.
 He's a werewolf. To be more specific, he's a Lycan- the werewolf royalty. For over three hundred years, his family had one purpose in life. Find me, the only female born to be his. But there's only one problem. I'm a human being. The instinct of lust and desire bonds us together, but the strings of life keep tearing us apart. The impossible cross-species love. The extravaganza of life. Two restless souls. So close, yet so apart. When love becomes a curse, nobody is supposed to get out alive. But we will survive. Because lovers never die.

This book gathers different love stories, yes, love stories. All these stories that I collected over time, that were told to me by friends, acquaintances, relatives and others from my own imagination ink. And perhaps, there is some coincidence.

The Adoration and lust that intially marks the love between the two, drifts a sudden deviation in destiny. However the fate brings them together in the laters where the couple work to build a better relationship. The novel explores on how It's truly devastating that we yearn for something, only when its no where near us.

Love has many colours every colour has its own side. Join the journey of our characters to see every shade of loveIts a collection of short stories with many different shades of love