Fly With Wings Of Love Novels & Stories

Life is too short, to dwell on sad things for long, which is why Augustus Hale, always believed in moving forward with the best memories. He was a positive person, but at the same time sensitive, and he acknowledged all his flaws, because he was aware of the beauty of imperfection. He let his passionate and dreamy soul guide him towards his destiny, like a free bird, who fell a lot of times, before finally relishing the joy of flight. Coming to London was a hasty decision all together, but his friend Austin had saved him from regretting it.

“You are my guardian angel in human form, Hunter. You may be wingless… but you’re just as magnificent, just as beautiful as an angel would be. I love you.” “I love you more.” he said gently kissing my lips again. I raised a brow at him. “Really? How could you be so sure that you love me more?” He gave me a playful grin. Then in a serious voice, he said, “Because I traded my wings just to be with you, beautiful.” As we kissed again under the stars and the lovers’ moon, I vowed to prove him wrong. I have the rest of our lives to show him that I love him… exactly as much as he loves me.

At my grave, he reached out to touch the photo carved into my tombstone, his smile radiant, though his eyes brimmed with sorrow. "If only the old tales of lovers turning into butterflies were real," he murmured. And in that moment, I felt myself transform—my soul taking shape as a butterfly. I fluttered down, landing softly on his shoulder. He lifted a hand and brushed the edge of my fragile wings. A single tear fell from his eye. Then suddenly, blood spilled from his lips. He collapsed in front of my grave. Moments later, another butterfly appeared beside me. Together, we circled freely in the wind, then soared higher and higher, toward an endless horizon.

and even then it was rare; perhaps it was because they were half human after all. Her green eyes and crooked smile had haunted my dreams for some time now. In those dreams I saw her, clothed in all black with her scythe fighting viciously. When I woke from those dreams my heart would be pounding in my chest, a light sheen of sweat with her name on my lips. I knew she felt it, the electricity that skittered between us constantly, especially if we touched. This was the last thing I wanted or needed, and it was clear she didn’t know what the feelings meant; just that they were there. I shoved my chair back and stood up, then taking my shirt off I exposed my wings and stretched them, gently rol

“Not proper now. I simply… I want to be by myself for a piece.” “Okay,” he answered, status up again. “I’ll give you area. Just recognize that I’m right here if you need me.” As he left the room, I felt a mixture of emotions—ache, anger, confusion. I sank back onto the sofa, staring blankly on the wall. Memories of Jake flooded my mind, each excellent and horrific. I notion approximately our laughter, our shared dreams, and the love I thought we had. But that love felt shattered now, like glass scattered across the ground. I didn’t recognise a way to choose up the portions or if I even desired to. All I knew turned into that I had to attend to myself first.

Yes, I had a high sex drive but I’m not uncontrollable like demons who visit people in their dreams and have sex with them just to relieve themselves. I spent some time alone in the forest, trying to understand my new wings. I discovered I could will them to flap, spread out, and cocoon around me. It wasn’t even hard to learn to fly with them and I had the urge to fly up further into the sky but I was worried someone else would see. Luckily my anger had died down when the wings sprung out of my back. I was more concerned about the strange development than some stupid bitch who has nothing to do but throw herself at a man who doesn’t want her.

After the call ended, he wandered the streets as the past seven years replayed in his mind like a movie. The first memory he thought of was when I arrogantly asked him to buy me coffee. Ray also remembered how he had secretly added sugar to my bitter drink back then. Next, he recalled our bittersweet first kiss and how we had stood determinedly before my father, hand in hand. He also reminisced about our early years when we had weathered storms together. Then, he pondered how the recent ones had been filled with silence and apathy. Seven years was a long time—to the point where he couldn't distinguish when his love for me had turned into hate.

"I can make a neat margarita." "Too sweet." "Vodka?" "Too strong." "Tequila?" She smiled, "Too risky." "Tequila it is," he chuckled. "How about that flask?" she asked, glancing at the gold flask sitting behind him. "That's absinthe, Miss. It's dangerously strong." "Perfect." He hesitantly handed her the flask. "Thanks," she grinned, pushing the glass of her whisky into his hands. "See you around." "Without a name?" he asked as she turned to leave.

It was just like our marriage, which once seemed unbreakable but was now nothing but lies and betrayal. I stood where I was, watching the fire grow smaller and smaller until the last ember was extinguished. I felt no nostalgia or reluctance, only calm and relief. I then picked up my suitcase and took a taxi to the airport without looking back.

He showered me with an abundance of care and attention. At that time, whenever he came across something novel or interesting, he would always bring it to me first. He was the person who dispelled the fear and unease lingering in my heart with his love and care. But all those beautiful moments vanished on that chaotic night like a mirage. Trapped by someone else's scheme, he gave me an intoxicating "dream" that I couldn't resist sinking into. When the effects of the drug wore off, however, he showed me that the cruelty of the prince of the Hare City's circle was no mere rumor. My dreams were shattered piece by piece under his cold gaze and heartless words.