Be Still My Beating Heart Book Novels & Stories

I cared for you, ever since I saw you, you became my heartbeat, and now that you're gone, my heart forgot it's beat. ---- This is the end of part one, the second part of the book will be uploaded soon after some days. Please support me as much as you can. I'd really appreciate it, and you guys mean the world to me <3 Okay, won't bore you more, I hope you liked the book so far. Thanks, V:)

“So, tell me about this specific part that caught your interest. The part that made you blush. The question was softer now, almost coaxing. “Oh, no. There is no part of the book that...” Harper said while finishing the document binding. She took a deep breath. “Please just ignore the whole blushing thing. It’s rather embarrassing,” she requests silently and look down at the bound documents. Oliver’s lips curved into a knowing smile at her attempt to brush off the blush. He was not about to let it go so easily- the rare glimpse of vulnerability was far too interesting. “Embarrassing?” he repeated, his voice taking on a teasing quality. “On the contrary, I find it quite endearing. Most people

This is really stressing me out, and I couldn't wait for it all to be over. The eldest among the elders took the books from me. Others gathered around him as they began glancing through the book. They checked from one book, and then they crossed check from the two other books to see if it would correspond. If I were to be a regular human, my heart would be beating terribly by this time. But fortunately my heart wouldn't move an inch crom it's position or make a single noise. The only person that could ever shake my heart would remain Sally, except Sally, no other person, nor any situation would be capable of making my heart beat, or skip.

I was determined to prove to myself that I am not like Alqamar. “You like books now?” I stiffened at that voice. I swallowed hard. I know that goddamn voice. My heartbeat faster that I feel like it will burst out any moment now. What the hell is this feeling? Am I going to die? Why the hell is my heart is beating like crazy?

I press the letter to my chest and I feel the heart thump against the paper like a reply. "I don't know your name as I write this. I don't know your face. But I know you needed a heart and I have one to give, and honestly that's a better love story than most people get. My heart is stubborn, that’s a fair warning. It beats faster when it's angry and slower when it's near lavender and it has a terrible habit of falling in love with people who don't know what to do with love. That might be my fault. Or it might just be the heart. Either way, it's yours now. So make sure you appreciate it and treat it better than I did."

When I tried to follow the nanny out of the hospital, an invisible force pulled my soul back again. I realized in despair that I could only stay near my brother and could not go too far from him. "I'm dead, so why haven't I disappeared? No one can see me. Why am I still here?" I asked. No one answered my question. I could only stay afloat and numbingly watch Joseph get busy over Yvette. He cleaned the hospital room until it was spotless. He then brought out the gifts he bought for Yvette. She had finished surgery and could only lie quietly on the bed without daring to move, so Joseph carefully placed each gift in front of her.

My heart still ached, but it beat with something steadier this time. Resolve.

“Both Sho and Red are bachelors, it’s just normal for them to fall in love.” “But, why me? I’m just on my second day. I don’t get it,” Aurelie said. KJ looked at her again and slowly held her chin as he lifted her head. Aurelie was surprised after he suddenly did that kind of thing to her and couldn’t avoid staring at KJ. “It is true that your beauty is mesmerizing.” What is this so much heart pounding and butterflies in her stomach? Why are there so many men giving her that even with the fact they’re not Ryota? Aurelie kept thinking about these questions and yet she doesn’t know.

What remained was the slower, harder, more terrifying work of staying—of choosing, every day, to remain inside a story that no longer had an author except the two people living it. I closed my eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart under my ear. For the first time, the quiet did not feel like the pause before another extraction. It felt like the beginning of everything that came next.