Emotional Love Books Novels & Stories

I watched her for I don't know how long, minutes or maybe longer. My heart was pounding so hard I was scared it might wake her up. The words were right there again, sitting on my tongue. I love you. Just three words and that was all. Three words that should have been easy. But every time I opened my mouth, something closed in my throat. I could feel the familiar fear of letting someone in creep in again. I always believed loving someone meant giving them the power to destroy you, at least that was what I learnt from my parents relationship.

She reads a passage from the book and she says: "This is exactly what I've been trying to explain to people for decades. Love isn't a feeling. It's a choice. You choose it over and over." She hugs me when she leaves. That evening, I call Dominic. "The book is working," I tell him. "People are reading it and it's changing their lives. People are understanding that the work is worth it." "Of course it's working," he says. "You wrote the truth. You documented what real love looks like. People need that." When I get home, Dominic is waiting for me. He takes me into his arms and he holds me while I cry from the overwhelming weight of knowing that the book matters. That the work I did to document

They immersed themselves in the emotions woven through the pages, allowing the love expressed within to seep into their souls. They laughed, cried, and reveled in the beauty of their shared experiences. These love letters became more than mere words on paper—they were a tangible embodiment of their journey, a testament to the depth of their connection, and a source of comfort during times of distance or doubt. Emily and Liam's collection of love letters became a legacy—a cherished heirloom that would be passed down through generations, preserving their love for eternity. It served as a reminder that love, like the written word, had the power to transcend time and leave an indelible mark on t

The sweet and thoughtful Brianna had become cold and selfish. “I love you so much..” Lorenzo sobbed. My insides trembled upon hearing those words again. I felt like my ears tinged and my blood boiled as anger flared up in my system. “Stop lying!” I screamed and tried to push him again, using all my strength. “How the f**k can you say that, if all you have ever done in those two years were f**k different girls?! Do you even know the meaning of love?!” I gritted as I tried to get rid him off me.

Lily sat at the coffee shop, sipping her latte and scrolling through her phone. She had always loved this place – the cozy atmosphere, the smell of fresh coffee, and the sound of the barista's steaming milk. It was her safe haven, her escape from the chaos of her life. As she looked up from her phone, she caught sight of James walking towards her. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him – tall, handsome, and charming as ever. He was her best friend Sarah's fiancé, and Lily had been secretly in love with him for years.

She felt the blood rush to her cheek, and suddenly the room became very warm. She decided to let it go. She had no hunger pangs now, and she could cross that path when she came to it. She hoped he would be by her side then. Besides, deep down, she didn’t really care that much about feeding, or vampires, or swords, or any of it. What she really wanted to know was about him. Or, really, how he felt about her. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him. Why did you risk it all for me? Was it just to find the sword? Or was it something else? Once you find your sword, will you still stay with me? Even though romance with a human is forbidden, would you ever cross the line for me?

As they walked through the gardens, Blake took Emily's hand and told her how he felt. "I know this might be sudden, Emily, but I have to tell you how I feel," he said. "I've never met anyone like you. You're kind, intelligent, and beautiful. I can't imagine my life without you." Emily was taken aback by Blake's confession, but she knew that she felt the same way. "I feel the same, Blake," she said. "I've never met anyone like you either. I'm willing to take a risk if it means we can be together."

Suddenly she felt her wrist being pulled from behind, his lips then crashed into hers, knocking the air out of her lungs, their lips passionately sought the taste of one another, cupping his hand on the back of her neck, he pulled her closer, she clutched his shirt as she clung to him; love, need, despair, desperation, all tender emotions were poured into their last kiss. Breaking the kiss, he gazed into her eyes and whispered, "I love you," before she could reply she felt herself being pulled inside the portal, the image of her beloved disappeared as the portal closed in front of her eyes and she found herself slipping into the darkness.

Ticking them off on his fingers as he spoke, Eason explained, “The basic emotions of human beings are sadness, love, happiness, fear, disgust, and anger.” Nyla shook her head. “I have never felt any of these emotions, Eason. I wouldn’t know how to.” Eason stared, sizing her up. “I don’t believe that. Maybe you haven’t been able to name them, but I’m sure you’ve felt them before. You must have.” “You have more faith in me than I do.” “No, I think I have just enough faith, Nyla.” His eyes bore into her, and she squirmed. “Let’s start with the easiest emotion. It’s unlike any of the others and easier to describe, so it’ll be easiest for you to identify.”

I'd gladly shoot the ones who'll tell her otherwise. I busied myself by answering some emails as I sit on the couch in the Great Room, trying my best not to bother the people going back and forth to decorate. It was coming to life now, the wedding. Several flowers and lace and lights. I should feel sick to my stomach now, knowing that in less than three days, I'd be a married man, be Boss of two business, and have Mari as my wife, have her enemies as mine, and mine as hers. It wasn't scary though. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that this marriage is real. Somewhere deep inside the rubble of distrust and hate, bad history and vendettas, Mari and I have something real. Sure we might