Closer Heartbeat Novels & Stories

"Tonight, we just breathe." A small smile forms on my lips as I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat, which seems very effective at easing me.

As his hand reached out to hold mine, I felt a sudden surge of comfort and warmth as his hands gently glided over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. "Here," he said, placing his hand over my chest, just above my heart. "I will listen to your heartbeat and check for any irregularities," he explained, his voice soothing and reassuring. I nodded, waiting to see what he was about to do next, and to my surprise, he placed his ear over my chest and closed his eyes, focusing intently on the rhythmic thumping of my heart. He is so close that I can feel his breath on my skin, creating a sense of intimacy between us.

"You're going to be fine, My miracle, I will never lose you." The distant sound of my heartbeat slowly made its way into my subconsciousness, bringing my mind back to life. I listened carefully to the heartbeat, following the sound. The beating slowly turned to a beeping, a machinery beeping. It increased with every step closer I got to the location of the sound until I snapped my eyes open with a gasp. Damn.

My heart, something that had felt distant for so long, began to beat louder, faster, as if it was trying to catch up with something it had missed. I couldn’t look away. All I could feel was my loud heartbeat.

I raised my head and gasped as I felt him drew closer. “Never do that to me again.” He pulled me and I ended up crashing on his chest, eyes wide of what I am hearing. Is that his heartbeat? I leaned closer, my head resting comfortably in his chest as I listened, intent on memorizing his heartbeat. It sounds soothing and it made me think of the first time we’ve met, remembering how his heartbeat appears so unnatural. This heartbeat sounds more natural, more him.

The sound of his heart beats loudly as he leans in close to her. It was loud enough for Wang Yi-An to hear it. The closer he leans in, the more she became embarrassed and her face flushed as she thought, "He's too close! I can hear the sound of his heart beating... Wait! Is my heartbeat as loud as his?" Thump, thump, thump... Her face flushed red as she thought about him, being able to hear her beating heart. It's too embarrassing!

I tug at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling every inch of our bodies connect. The tension between us snaps like a coiled spring, and my body presses against his. My body presses against his, and I become acutely aware of the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palms, a sound that syncs with the rhythm of my own pulse, quickening with every moment.

Heartbeat steady. Energy smooth. Too smooth. Like a lake with no wind. And still water Can hide depth. Around 2:03 a.m., his lips move. Barely. No sound. Just shape. I lean closer. He whispers something faint. Too quiet to catch. But I feel it. Not power. Not spike. A frequency shift. Low. Subtle. Like something answering him. I press my hand lightly over his chest. The hum adjusts. Responds. Then settles.

I saw it. The heartbeat. Fast and furious and alive. Something cracked inside my chest. Something I'd been holding together since the moment I signed that contract. Tears slid down my temples into my hair. I didn't wipe them away. "The heartbeat is strong," Dr. Hayes said. "Faster than typical for four weeks, but —" She tilted her head. "But there's something else." "What?" Kael's voice was rough. Dr. Hayes zoomed in. The image blurred, then sharpened.

Seventy-two beats a minute, which I know because Laurel told me, because I've started counting and because of this small device I’ve around my wrist that monitors how well my pulse is. Counting the beats the way I used to count the clicks of the mechanical heart has now become a habit, except these beats are warm and alive and sometimes they speed up or slow down for reasons I can't explain or when I see something nice or beautiful, like the heart has opinions I haven't learned to translate yet. At midnight, I hear heavy and deliberate footsteps, paced like someone counting. Back and forth down the hallway outside my door. It’s not rushed or aimless. It’s measured, like a human metronome in