Falling Again But Not Into Your Arms Novels & Stories

Fifteen feet is a survivable fall if I slip. But my hands don’t move. Okay, I’ll go feet-first. Makes more sense when you’re climbing down anyway. I’ll just lift up my foot and— My foot doesn’t move either. “Ingrid?” he says softly. “Oh, I’m here,” I say through gritted teeth. “I just think my body may be teaming up against me.” “Does something hurt?” He sounds urgent, nervous. I shake my head—oh, shit, that’s too much movement. My whole world seems to flip inside out. Am I still holding onto the wall? Is there a wall to hold on to? When did I shut my eyes again?

Then I take a leap of faith and jump. God must be currently sleeping, as my leap into faith is rejected. Instead of landing neatly at the other side, like Chris, my foot wobbles and I stumble with my arms outstretched. I fall forwards – my arms are trembling so much that they fail to stop me face planting the floor. I feel the air leave my lunges as the side of my face crunches against the floor. “Are you okay? Shit!” Chris exclaims as he helps me up.

Fallen. With the flow of the moment and that one kiss, yet rather an intended howl of someone who’s definitely fallen but he just does not dare to admit it himself. Read by the heavens or rather a play of fates trick, Andrea screams. “Oh my gosh!” Surprised as she almost drops the basket of fruits she’s been carrying.

What if I can’t find my way back? What if I run into someone else? What if— I turn a corner too quickly— And slam straight into something solid. A gasp escapes me as the impact knocks the breath out of my chest. My balance slips, my foot sliding against the smooth floor. I’m falling. My heart jumps into my throat— Just great, Vera. How much more clumsy can you get? I brace for the ground, but it doesn’t come. And I feel something steadies me. It's Strong.

Push. I feel a shove. I fall, losing my footing. Alex catches me mid-air, wraps me tight, and we crash down the stairs together. Roll. Hit. Scratch. Thud.

Falling should have meant silence. Instead, it came with his name tearing from my throat and the terrifying certainty that the man reaching for me might no longer belong to the world I knew. --- I was falling. Not slipping. Not stumbling. Falling clean and endless, like gravity itself had decided to make an example of me. The wind tore the scream from my lungs as the penthouse lights vanished above, replaced by darkness streaked with broken glass and city glow far below. My arms flailed uselessly, grasping for anything anyone.

I can't pass out now, not at least on him. It's done, I fell and I don't know what is going to happen to me. ***********************

I stuck my tongue out and tried to reach for the drop I could feel cascading down my cheek, but it wasn’t accessible. My fingers began to slip, the cold, damp surface offering little grip as panic surged through me. In an instant, I lost my footing completely, leaving only my desperate fingers to cling to the edge—my only barrier between life and the churning abyss below. “Cassie, I can’t! I’m falling!” I called out, my voice trembling.

I kept jogging, trying to match it. Then suddenly, the speed increased sharply. I missed my footings and I stumbled backward with speed. I closed my eyes, already resigned to my fate as I waited for the impact of my fall. A broken back or A fractured arm, Worse my neck Or my head hitting the floor. But instead, I fell into something Solid and Warm. Strong arms. A beating heart. Not again, I cursed.

He asks with his handsome smile. I nod. I’m falling. I’m falling. I’m falling. I’m falling. I’m falling.