Deserve Novels & Stories

He called her an asset again. It's about time she starts accepting what she truly is to Draven. He is not a man to have a life with.

Only coming out upon seeing you, the person I used to be, the odd ball out. I guess I'mjust trying to say every decision has an explanation, so I felt you deserved to know mine. Not because, I'm trying to justify what I did, never that, whatI did was wrong. I deserve everything negative I get my way, I deserve it all. I deserve to have an aching weighing feeling on my heart because, of the guilt. I deserve to have my parents hate me for what I did.

You have people who love you and want to help you heal. "What if I do not deserve help?" Beverly cupped his face in her hands. Made him look at her. She signed with one hand while keeping the other on his cheek. Deserving has nothing to do with it. You are human. Humans make mistakes. Humans hurt each other. But humans also heal. Also grow. Also become better than they were. You get to choose which path you take. Diro leaned his forehead against hers. Breathed in the smell of her. Felt the solid reality of her presence.

For a heartbeat, it looked like there were two of us kneeling before the altar and two shadows behind, larger, looming. Paul’s breathing slowed. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You said mercy isn’t earned. That’s given.” I nodded. “But what if it’s given to the wrong person?” “What do you mean?” He looked up at the crucifix. “What if someone like me doesn’t deserve it at all?” I felt something sharp twist in my chest. “None of us deserves it,” I said. “That’s the point.” He smiled weakly a broken, almost mocking smile. “So even you?”

Instead of weapon. "You deserve to exist. You deserve happiness. You deserve—all of it. Not because you earned it. Not because you atoned enough. But because you are human. And humans deserve dignity. Deserve chance. Deserve—grace. Especially humans who are trying. Who are fighting to be better. Who are using their pain to help others." "But what if I am fooling myself? What if I am not actually good? What if I am just—performing goodness to feel better about being evil? What if everything I do is selfi

Else how would I be able to show my face anywhere ever again? “Good morning Miss. Breakfast is ready,” he informed me. I was well aware everyone knew about my position in the pack as an omega. It was a stench every wolf could perceive from a mile away. I never could have gotten rid of that scent, no matter how hard I tried. He still regarded me with the same respect and title as everyone else regardless of that. I prided myself on being able to read people’s emotions towards me which was usually disgust or pity. The look on Andrew’s face said otherwise. He was just doing his job and I was genuinely grateful for that.

"But at some point you have to decide if you're going to spend the rest of your life atoning or if you're going to actually live with the weight of what you've done." "I don't deserve to live with it." The confession came out broken. "I don't deserve peace or love or any of the things she makes me feel." "Maybe not." His honesty was brutal but necessary. "But deserving has never been the point of grace, has it? We don't love God because we deserve it, we love Him because He chose to love us first despite everything we are." "Are you saying God wants me to be with her?" The question felt dangerous.

No one can take away what's yours. She turned and gave me a sidelong look before sarcastically continuing, "See? That's what real class looks like. "He's always thinking about giving me gifts and money, be they big or small, unlike some people who only know how to reach out and ask me for cash. "Tory's your junior, Reuben. How can two students from the same college turn out to be so different? You're nowhere near as driven or considerate as he is."

“I know this isn’t what I wanted. But I don’t think what I want should come before what you deserve.” My throat tightens. I blink hard. I hate that he’s saying the right things now. I hate that a part of me wants to reach through the screen and shake him and another part wants to curl into his chest and pretend none of this happened. “You deserve a love that doesn’t ask you to shrink. Or wait. Or forgive things that break you quietly.” I stare at the wall for a long time. I type. Delete. Type again. Okay. Just that. One word. Cold. Safe.

Sounds of new life discovering existence one breath at a time. “She deserves to exist,” Hope finally said. “Deserves to experience life. Deserves to know joy and love and meaning. Even if that means also knowing pain and loss and death. Even if existence is hard. Even if suffering is guaranteed. She deserves the chance. Deserves the choice. Deserves existence.”