Bittersweet Novels & Stories

The other two follow me from behind. "Hello," a dark haired woman with a dark brown eyes smiles while standing in front of us. So this is the bloody babysitter who's an hour late than the time she's supposed to be here? And she dares to smile like this as if she's innocent? "Hello," all three of them greet her back. "You're pretty," Belle supplies as she steps forward. "Awww thanks," the tardy babysitter squats in front of her and smiles. I feel like wiping that smile off this instant by the rage in me, she fucking wasted an hour of my life.

I scream to him. He roars and lunges for me, slamming my back against the wall and knocking all the air out my lungs. He grabs my throat, squeezes it shut and before I can push him off me, his teeth sink in the soft flesh between my neck and collarbone until they hit the bone. The fucking bastard marked me! He fucking marked me! His emotions smash into me like a tidal wave, anger, frustration, lust and just a hint of guilt. I push him off me when he rolls his tong over the bite wound, closing it with his saliva. I shiver from the feeling he instantly gives me, fucking mate bond. I open my mouth to scream at him before my world twirls around me and darkness swallows me.

“Well, Sweetheart, it is just as well that this is our honeymoon night. Imagine yourself having ice cream without sugar.” A frown creased her brow as she thought about it and he just continued describing more doomy scenarios. “Imagine having wine that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Imagine having a cup of honey ladled with a heap of salt.” Zee didn’t like the scenarios he described as they painted a picture of something bittersweet. This didn’t bode well for her at all. Her eyes filled up rapidly again and looked up imploringly into his.

It was a moment suspended in time, where the world outside ceased to exist, and the only reality was the captivating dance between their bodies and souls. In that intimate embrace, the sweet and bitter pain intertwined, creating a symphony of sensations that painted the canvas of their love. It was a bittersweet reminder that their connection was both tender and passionate, delicate yet powerful. The ache in her muscles echoed the depth of their longing while the tenderness in his touch whispered promises of love and devotion.

“Plus, my love is like my father’s. We only know how to suffocate people until their lives are sucked out of them. That’s how we know how to love.” “Hey! That’s not–” “You’re a reporter, Eva. But you’ve done so many things you can’t take back because you love me.” “Carson–” I cut her off again. “Then there’s what we’re doing tomorrow. That, is something we can’t take back, Eva. That is what it means to be affiliated to a Bitters.”

They might have taken my freedom, my revenge, but they couldn't take my defiance. With a trembling hand, I uncorked the vial. The scent of bitter almonds filled my nostrils, a familiar, comforting scent. This wasn't a swift poison, no. It would be a slow, agonizing descent into oblivion, a fitting end for a life filled with such bitter disappointment.

I whispered to myself, looking at nothing in particular. I looked over at a sticky note stuck on the fridge. Physics test tomorrow. Just wanted to remind you that in case you forgot about that too. -Alex I inhaled in a sharp breath when I felt a tear roll down my face. I had everything messed up. I sat down on the couch as I heard Chicken mewl somewhere in the house. I was so tired, so confused, so hurt. Why couldn't I have a normal relationship? Why did I have so many issues?

She always does when she thinks I’m unraveling—as if warm tea and quiet care can fix something this deep. I cross the room and pick up the cup, the warmth seeping into my palm. I bring it to my lips and take a slow sip. It’s sweet. Too sweet. But beneath that sweetness… there’s something else. Something I can’t quite place. Bitter. Not strong enough to make me stop—but enough to make my brow furrow slightly as I swallow. “…weird,” I murmur, glancing down at the cup as if it might explain itself before shrugging it off.

I fucking love that girl! I take the bottle of my whiskey and swig it. I turn up all the volume of the music playing on TV. I am playing instrumental music that helps me think and right now Bitter Sweet Symphony by David Garrett is playing. I am sitting in the middle of the stairway, drowning in my problems.

Which annoyed him to no end. “You’re sweet and tempting, with a chance of being spicy.” Amber thought she could say this, and he’d accept it as flirting. He figured she said it to take the sting out of her earlier words. Amber tried to fix what she didn’t understand. “Chocolate can be bitter, or salty as well.” Heath reminded her chocolate wasn’t only sweet or spicy. It could be salty and bitter. “Now you’re being mean.” Amber paused and frowned. “I’m not sure if you’re being mean to me or yourself. Heath, is there more to this than temporary cold feet?”