Fly With Wings Of Love Novels & Stories

I grasp onto that flow and press into it, pushing spikes into her veins, crawling up her arms, her— Pain blossoms in my arms, my legs. My torso’s on fire and I scream. Carita laughs. “Remember that you aren’t the only illusionist here, birdie.” Disbelief slides from my thoughts, my grip on reality slipping into pain and darkness. But I can’t look away from Vito; I have to make sure he’s okay. “Nighty night,” she whispers, pressing a thumb against my forehead. Vito’s vibrant wings fade from my vision, his amber eyes blurring into the landscape.

Tye replied eagerly and Sofia chuckled. “Well, in the beginning, there was a big girl named Sofia, and she had this belief about love, which her Abuela had taught her: Sparks fly when you meet your one true love-” “-How?” Tye asked. This was the first of many interruptions Sofia would come to experience. “I don’t know,” Sofia exhaled uncomfortably. She was already getting scared that this would be a lot harder than it had seemed. “When your hands come in contact I guess-”

Infact, the whole place was full of life and of hope and of love. She noticed at the back of the man was a pair of wings, it wasn't feathery, it was made with golden flame and it flapped gracefully behind his back. "Come" the man said in his angelic voice, "follow me". The man turned around, in front of her was his wings, bright and terrifyingly beautiful. There was a sudden urge in her hands to touch it, to see if it's real. She wondered if it's hot to touch but she shoved away the thought.

He was here. The sun was up and in my eyes. The first thing I saw was a sheer curtain attempting to keep the morning light away. The wind blew, sending the curtains up to the ceiling. The few seconds that the window was left bare, I caught a glimpse of the flowers designed by mother nature blooming in bunches and shrubs. They were in a dozen poignant colours, the reds looked like it could bleed. And there were butterflies, two– no three fluttered in my vision. Their wings, quite small but painted like it could only be made for the museum or for Disneyland. The curtain closed and I saw the room more clearly.

She had grown accustomed to my presence—my quiet care, attentive concern, the way I watched over her. She only used revenge as an excuse to keep me near. She had truly fallen in love with me, but for the sake of pride, she refused to admit she had fallen for someone ten years younger than herself. She chose to be wrong, again and again. All night long, Ellis drifted in and out of restless dreams. When she finally woke, she discovered she was all alone in the villa. She watched the wedding livestream over and over again. Tears slid down her face as she finally picked up the phone.

"The rose represents love and wings represents what falling in love feels like. Rose describes the beauty of love while the wings describe that Love gives you wings to fly in the sky. Love has no limit just like the sky…" Her throat felt heavy as tears welled in her eyes. "My grandfather took inspiration from Greek mythology before creating this design; it resembles true love and I added white diamonds to it because it was my tribute to my grandpa and my mother. The white Diamonds to the original design because it resembles my mom's smile." She looked down for a moment to control her tears and then looked at the Judges. "I have one more thing which proves that the design belongs to me."

“You begged me, Carl. And now, you shall have your wish.” This time, he did not draw away when her arms encircled him, nor did he so much as flinch as every hair below his neck stretched and tensed into wire-like rigidity. The itch of a thousand crawling ants erupted along his shoulder blades. He struggled, trying to scratch away the pain, but Layla held him fast. Seconds later, there was a tearing of cloth as wings unfolded—black and yellow—from his back. Layla snuggled closer with a grin, her dress peeling off her with a sound like falling silk. Red wings fluttered behind her before they slowed, flexing in time with his own. She stroked his cheek, “Shh, my love. Rest. Things will look bett

“Go wherever you want to go. Do the things you haven’t had the chance to do. Mingle with people, study the world, travel until you grow weary. Meanwhile… I will wait for you, loving you in my own way.” He lowered his head, bringing his lips closer to hers. “I love you too much to let your wings break, my angel,” he whispered before pressing his lips to hers.

Frank knew he was making himself vulnerable the moment he allowed himself fell completely in love with her and wanted to make her his. He knew with all his heart that he was giving himself up to be hurt again and yet he hoped with all his being to be spared. What a wishful thinking! Aria was perfect in every little way_if Frank was to describe her, she would be just like a fresh blooming roses that lured him to its beauty and captured his mind with her innocence until he is left bleeding because of it's hidden thorns he only came to realize just recently.

“Every moment away from you has been torture.” Our lips crashed together in a searing kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth, a battle for dominance that neither of us was willing to concede. His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me with a reverence that spoke of a love as old as sin itself. My skin was hot to the touch, my body responsive and eager, arching into his touch with a moan that was music to his ears. His wings unfurled, their metallic edges catching the flickering light of the candles, casting a dance of shadows across the walls. My hands found their way to his wings, tracing the intricate patterns with a reverence that spoke of a love as old as sin itself.