Cancer Love Language Novels & Stories

Aaron cleared his throat and spoke ; “ I didn’t know that doctor patient confidentiality was a must at the dinner table .” I chuckled and so did Alexis and Daniel. “I speak a love language Daniel understands and I strangely enough understand his too. “ Alexis nodded “ Let me guess ; words of affirmation and quality time ?” “Yes and you are spot on.” “ I bet we share a sign because I speak the same language .” “ You ‘re a crab too ?” “ Oh hell yeah girl and so is Cleo and Clara , so I guess the Massa’s and Luca’s have a type ?”

The world around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the sweetness of the moment. “Thank you. But you know this is all unnecessary, right?” I said, pulling away from his embrace. He chuckled. “You tell me this every year, but does it ever change?” He asked. “Ok, that’s fair. Your love language is giving gifts, I get it.” I said, and with a playful snap of my fingers, a beautiful vase filled with water appeared. I gently placed the golden roses into it, their delicate petals unfolding like tiny rays of sunshine.

Mostly. Tessa, self-proclaimed relationship expert, had once said over cocktails, “Love languages matter more than chemistry. You can be obsessed with someone, but if they don’t love you the way you need to be loved, it’ll always feel slightly off.” Olivia had laughed at the time. But Tessa had gone on, serious for once. “You have to love someone in their language. Not yours. If they need presence and you give them praise, they’ll still feel alone. If they need touch and you give them gifts, they’ll feel unseen.”

“We can’t operate in the zone the cancer is growing. We can try to stop it from its expansion but nothing else. We’ll do all we can to destroy her cancer, but nothing is guaranteed.” If only he had listened to her before. If only he had looked into her past. It wasn’t late, but it wasn’t early either. ‘We’ll get through this, Cam. We’ll get through this… my love.’ My love? It was the first time he was calling her in such a lovely way. My love.

It was obvious that she had fallen in love with Mark but was filled with fears of him not seeing her the way she saw him. “Love does not understand the language you are speaking,” Iris encouraged her since she could not tell them directly, what Garvin had told her about his friends. “So what language does it speak then?” Gianna asked curiously, Iris responded, “The language of honesty. Chelsea is right. You should begin thinking of the probabilities and not end up hurting him because of your negative thoughts.” Gianna smiled at the possibility. “Well, if he indeed feels something for me, then I think I’m the luckiest girl to have lived and Chelsea, how is Jake treating you?”

Timothee often thought about her love language after she learned about it way back in college. As far as she knew, there were five love languages. Words of encouragement, spending time, getting presents, acts of service, and physical contact were five various methods of showing and receiving love. Not everyone expressed love in the same manner, and not everyone liked to receive love in the same way.

- To love someone? - No! Talk about it out loud, but I want you to know. I would kill and die for you, Luna. I faced him. - I don't want you to kill anyone and I don't want you to die either. I just want you for me. - I love you! Smile. - I love you more. [...] I woke up hearing voices being whispered, I don't think it was supposed to wake me up, not open my eyes to hear the conversation.

I breathed. His fingers laced through mine, our palms pressed tightly. And I remembered the pressure of his body, the way his damp skin glued to mine, in every dip and rise of my flesh, when he was lodged deep inside me—. My throat went dry. “What's my love language, Charisse?” He repeated with the same tenderness in his gaze. And all I could feel was his lips and tongue everywhere on my body. “Touch,” I whimpered, my skin hot and frustrated.

"Cindy, Mitch is a full on 'physical touch' person. It's her primary." "Her primary?" "Yeah, her love language. From 'The Five Love Languages'. We read the teen version in my youth group." I stared at her, befuddled. What the hell was a love language? It sounded like mushy things you wrote in Valentine's Day cards. "You seriously don't know? Go look it up."

he asked, gesturing to the cupcakes. I picked one up, taking a small bite, the sweetness melting on my tongue. “These are amazing,” I said after I relished on the taste, my eyes lighting up. Perhaps he knew how starved I used to be in the pack, so he knew that my love language was going to be food. He was using it to find himself a way into my heart, and I hated that it was working. “You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity as he stared at me with the same twinkle like he was gazing up at stars.