Fading Obsession Mga Nobela at Kwento

I have to escape his madness or else I'll lose myself in his obsession. .............................. what do you think about Sebastian?. comment please.

TERMS AND CONDITIONS “I…I..” Lilian didn’t know what to do. She looked towards the crowd and spotted her father with pleading eyes , she looked further and there was Nanny Rosa with tears in her eyes and she made her decision . She realized she wasn’t ready to risk her happiness for anyone . Her brother would be fine and the family name never did anything for her so why bother about it but as she looked back at Xavier , through his hardened expression she could see desperation , desperation for the deal. She knew the deal meant more than he was letting on and she decided to help him.

“Until the end… and beyond.” The obsession had become something greater than life itself.

To anything that would help me drown out his voice echoing in my head. “You’re pathetic.” That one stuck. It played on loop like a curse. Because I knew he was right. Maybe this obsession I had with him—this reckless, spiraling need to have him—wasn’t desire. Maybe it was a sickness. One that consumed every part of me until I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I tried to remember what happened after the club. There were pieces, scattered like broken glass. Laughter. Loud music. A drink too many. A face—his face?

She doesn’t need to try for these male leads to fall head over heels in love with her. Cassie stared at the folder with a scowl, but her face beamed at the comments. She held her phone and deleted the data right in my face. “Poppy, save your idiot’s guide to yourself. It’s not for me. “Watch and learn. I’ll have Camden under my spell. He’ll be smitten with me, even if all I do is talk about SpongeBob SquarePants.” Not the least bit upset, I smiled brightly. “Good luck to you.

The confident woman who once commanded rooms had faded into someone desperate, cracked open by her choices. Damon’s name pulsed at the edge of my thoughts, uninvited. I could almost picture him at his office—composed, unreachable, probably thinking of her. Always her. Isabella. The name burned like acid in my chest. I picked up my phone. I’d typed and erased the same message over and over: I’m sorry. Two small words that meant nothing now. Because sorry doesn’t undo destruction. I’d thought I was in control once. That if I could just win Damon back, I’d reclaim everything I lost. But obsession isn’t love—it’s hunger. It eats through you until you mistake the ache for affection.

Shadows flickered along the cold concrete walls, stretching and twisting with the dim overhead light. Serena’s wrists burned from the rough rope biting into her skin, but she refused to wince. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Across from her, Lucian Moretti lounged lazily in his chair. He has poured himself another glass of whiskey. Which he held in one hand watching her like a predator toying with its prey. His dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable but she could see a smirk playing at his lips.

Friends noticed, colleagues whispered, but Adrian only smiled, thinking it was love, devotion, care. By the end of the week, Evan had fully established the rhythm of their lives. Adrian’s world revolved around Evan’s presence, his days carefully curated, his nights orchestrated for comfort and intimacy. Evan’s obsessive traits were fully visible now: constant checking, calculated proximity, subtle domination, unwavering control. Yet Adrian saw only love, devotion, and tenderness. And that was the dangerous part. Evan’s obsession had crossed every boundary he had tested before, yet Adrian welcomed it, craving it, addicted to the careful balance of dominance and tenderness. Evan knew it was pe

Valerie’s POV The club transformed into a mysterious cesspool filled with hidden vices and concealed secrets. Faded red wallpapered walls throbbed beneath dim neon lights which cast eerie shadows across the cracked leather booths. Cigarette smoke combined with stale beer and sweat filled the air to create an intoxicating atmosphere that whispered late-night confessions and desperation. I had been in places like this before—where people exchanged their dignity for a few bills and their secrets for a drink. This evening presented my opportunity to obtain one of those hidden truths.

"And you really look like someone who likes dark lyrics.” I gave an innocent smile, hiding in the background any characteristic of that little monster that lurking underneath.” "What's so dark about a woman who says she's crazy about someone?” "Nothing that is good comes from someone who is obsessed with someone else," he scored wisely. "You're right," I replied, arching an eyebrow. "Obsession always ends in a tragic way.