Closer Heartbeat Novels & Stories

I listened in the somewhat tense quietness, the heartbeat of people, the most overwhelming sound out of everything I could hear. My eyebrow furrowed as I realised something. The more I focused on the heartbeats, the clearer they became. But even amongst the five hearts that were beating with tension and adrenaline, there was a little heartbeat that stood out in my ears above all the rest. Fuck.

He exhales through his nose, frustrated but calm, and leans closer. “Stop thinking,” he murmurs. “Just feel.” I try. I really do. My heartbeat is loud and wild, but I close my eyes and try to silence everything else. At first, all I can hear is the frantic rhythm inside my chest—but then, something shifts. Beneath that sound, there’s another pulse, a softer echo that isn’t mine. It’s… his.

The kind that means I'm getting stronger. I close my eyes, trying to quiet my racing thoughts. That's when I feel it. A hum. Faint at first, like a vibration just below the threshold of hearing. It's not the bond—that's a steady pulse, a second heartbeat I'm learning to ignore. This is something else. Something *inside* me. I press a hand to my chest, frowning. The hum intensifies, spreading through my veins like warm honey. It's not painful. It's almost pleasant.

I could hardly believe it—a zombie with a heartbeat. Magnus' pale gray eyes had softened, his whole being shifting closer to that of a living man. But deep down, I knew the truth. A zombie was still a zombie. No matter how many emotions or human traits he seemed to possess, his brain had long been dead. After I came into his life, Magnus rarely left my side. He seldom went out, always staying close to me.

Asher I woke up sweating profusely and my heart beating really hard and fast. I was so scared and it felt like I was having a heart attack. I wasn’t sick before going to bed but the dream I had was so scary and it just did a lot of things to my mental heart.

My heart skipped a beat, my tears moist right then. I dropped to a crouch and held him, pressing my ear against his chest again. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping powerfully through his thin shirt. It was such a familiar sensation. It was Stan's heartbeat. As I closed my eyes, my tears flowed ever so quietly. We stayed like that for a while, and as I wiped my tears, I held Nathan firmly in my arms once more. "Please live a good life with Stan's heart." - Nathan walked with me to the gates of the orphanage, but I never once turned to look at him again.

I whisper, my voice thick with tears. “I know.” His words are soft, tinged regret and pain. Heavy silence stretches between us, but for the first time, I don’t mind it. I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear, letting it ground me, anchor me in the present. The music changes, James Arthur’s Last of the Whiskey filling the room. The slow, sultry beat wraps around us, and I find myself wishing I could sway to the melody, to lose myself in the haze of smoke.