Breath Novel Novels & Stories

The stranger's embrace offers a sense of security and warmth that penetrates through the cold despair that had gripped her. “Breathe -” In the midst of her dizziness, a faint image flickers before her eyes, accompanied by a gentle voice that resonates in her ear, urging her to breathe. Despite the struggle, she tries to follow the stranger's guidance, her breaths slow and deliberate, gradually steadying her racing heart.

My mind stirs before my body does. Pain is the first thing I feel. Not sharp, but a bruised ache buried in my bones, whispering of what I’ve done to return. Each breath scrapes against the inside of my chest like wind against shattered glass. But it’s air. I’m breathing. My lungs, greedy and stubborn, fight to keep it. My heart follows, thumping slow, then faster, then steady. I’m alive. Warmth is next.

Only I can have it. Somehow, I push myself off the bed and stand. I grab his shirt and tug, trying to snatch the pad back. But Danny’s older than me and bigger. “What are you doing? Don’t touch me!” he screams, pushing me away. My hand slips and I fall. The air rushes out of my lungs. I want to scream, but nothing comes out. “Are you dying?” Danny taunts, coming close and looking down at me. I try to breathe, but I can’t.

Whitemoon – Early Morning The wind was different. Not softer, not harsher — just… absent of something. Elise knew before she opened her eyes that the city had shifted overnight. She dressed quickly, pulling on her boots and wrapping her mother’s scarf loosely around her neck. The air tasted faintly metallic, like the seconds before lightning. She found Breya already at the Hollow’s edge, hair unbraided, eyes locked on the vines that had grown over the entrance. “They’re gone,” Breya said without turning.

The leather binding has fancy marks in it and has title imprinted on the front. "That first kiss." Ugh, from just the title you could tell that a teenage girl at the start of her puberty wrote it. I couldn't really tell if Nova's a girl or a boy, he wants to be called a "he" but then writes a full novel about a CEO obsessing over a girl. I don't know why Nova doesn't want to call it a book when it obviously was. Don't let the title fool you, the story slowly turns dark and twisted.

Ten minutes later, with a bottle in hand and a new lavender oil the woman insisted would help with sleep, I stepped out into the street — and the air hit me wrong. The sun felt too bright. The cars too loud. The sidewalk too narrow. And then suddenly — no warning — I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t even dramatic. It was a slow tightening, like a string pulled around my chest, pulling and pulling until even blinking felt like effort. My hand flew to my stomach instinctively. Not here, I thought. Not now. I ducked into the small alley beside the bookstore and crouched low, trying to slow my breath.

She couldn't breathe, she wanted to but she couldn't. Or was it that she could finally breathe? Had she finally found her breath after two years? Did she even know what breathing was like? She has not breathed properly for so long now. The feeling of cool air through the nose, passing along the throat and into the lungs; yes, this was what she felt, alive.

Since I learned, within hours of arriving, that I was collateral against a debt I had never signed for. I have been breathing shallowly for ten days. I have been taking in only as much air as I needed to stay upright, to keep my hands steady on the deeds, to meet Domenico's eyes across the dinner table without flinching. Now I breathe deep, and the air tastes like rain and ozone and the salt of my own skin, and I let it fill my lungs until my ribs ache.

I crept into the girls’ bedroom, the soft sound of their breathing breaking my heart. “Sweethearts,” I whispered, brushing their hair from their faces. “Wake up, we are going on a little trip.” Primrose stirred first, blinking sleepily. “Mom, where are we going?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Somewhere safe,” I whispered, forcing a smile. “Now hurry, get dressed.” Before I could reach for Jane, I heard it ,her cough. A deep, heavy cough that did not sound right. “Jane?” I whispered, shaking her gently.

I barely feel out of breath, while the boys around me begin to lag behind, struggling for air with every breath. I am the first to finish the run around the castle. My body is flushed a deep red, with sweat droplets rolling down my skin splashing onto the ground. I hunch over, my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath, as the rest of the knights also begin to come to a stop. I stand, my head beginning to throb, with a pain so intense that it feels like someone has taken a knife to my skull. Sighing I pinch my temples squinting in pain. Without saying anything I head back to my chambers, to clean myself up.