روايات وقصص ضمن Heartstoppers

My boyfriend said he had been connected to a system that let him see how much other people needed him. The first thing he did was ask me with tears in his eyes, "Your number is only 30. Don't you love me?" I told him, "Just because I don't depend on you doesn't mean I don't love you." After that, whenever it rained, he would hold an umbrella over his secretary and even drive out of his way to take her home. When I asked him about it, he would say, "Don't overthink it. Her number is high, so I know she needs my help." One day, I was sick and stuck in bed, but he chose to go shopping with his secretary. "Your number is low, but she's in more urgent need of me. I'll go shopping with her first,

I closed my eyes. "Please." My voice broke. "Not yet." I pressed my palms together. "We're not finished yet." The door opened. The attending physician stepped into the corridor, still wearing her gloves. Her face told me she hadn't come out to reassure us. She looked directly at me. "His heart has gone into a dangerous rhythm. We're treating it now, but he's becoming unstable." Behind her, the monitor alarm started again. And for the first time, I understood what Status 1A really meant. We weren't simply waiting for a heart anymore. We were racing his.

The ice forming at the corners of those green eyes that were still, somehow, completely fixed on me. And then I looked down at my own hands. Numb. Shaking. Barely functional. “You are going to have to walk me through every single step,” I said finally, my voice coming out small and cracked and nothing like I wanted it to. “Hold on.. How do I restart your heart?” “CPR.” His voice was barely above a rough exhale now. “Hard compressions. C-center of the chest. You push down hard enough to physically compress the heart and force it to beat again.”

I went straight to the door, paused, then looked through the peephole. Empty hallway. Too empty. I unlocked the door slowly anyway. Just a crack. Nothing. Then I heard it. Footsteps. Not outside. Inside the building. Slow. Measured. Getting closer. I froze. My breath caught in my throat so hard it hurt. “Hello?” I called out, but my voice came out weaker than I meant it to. No answer. The footsteps stopped. Right in front of my door. I backed up immediately, hand over my mouth to keep myself quiet.

“Not a contract, not an obligation... just… you. Always you.” The intensity of their embrace was punctuated by whispered promises, soft gasps, and shared confessions of desire and love. In the chaos of Helena’s schemes, the outside world faded into insignificance. There was only this, the heat, the closeness, the shared heartbeat of two people refusing to be torn apart.

For a moment, I had forgotten he didn't know I wasn't deaf anymore. I looked at him with a blank expression, my voice freezing. "Are you sure your heart belongs only to me?" His face flickered with a trace of panic before he forced a smile. "And to our daughter, of course. My heart belongs to you two." Bonnie piped up from the side, "Mommy, you're not jealous of me, are you?" Before she could say more, a ringtone cut her off. Jackson stepped aside. When he returned a moment later, he seemed apologetic. "Sorry, Quinn. Something urgent came up at work. I need to handle it."

she yelled Silas placed his hand on her shoulder. “Do you feel any pain in your chest?” He asked Fiona raised her brow in puzzlement. “What?” “You don't, right? That is because you have a healthy heart. That boy is suffering from heart failure and that seizure could've killed him if I hadn't been there so yes, his life is more important” Fiona's eyes whelmed up, “I can't believe you're saying this,” Silas ascended the stairs, paying her fuss no attention.

Jesse blinked at the gleaming marble floors, the crystal chandeliers, the fresh-cut orchids arranged like art installations. "You live here alone?" he asked. Alina walked ahead, heels tapping like a ticking clock. "Alone is underrated." As they passed through a gallery hallway-lined with modern art that probably cost more than his old neighborhood-Jesse stopped in front of a sculpture that looked like two twisted metal hearts. "What's this one called?" "'Affection Fatigue,'" Alina said dryly. "By a French artist who only works during breakups." "Cheerful." She shot him a look. "You'll get used to it. Come on."

ACE I was furious, my heart was beating so fast it was a miracle that it couldn't be heard from the gate. No one speaks to Aella that way, no one is allowed to talk about her. They don't know what it took me to bring her here, they don't know how much I hated sharing her with humans.

His breathlessness intensified, each inhalation becoming a laborious effort. Upon witnessing Blaze slump to the ground, Dexter hurriedly approached. Blaze's rapid, irregular heartbeat echoed in Dexter's ears, creating a disconcerting rhythm. "Judging by the pace of your blood flow and the way your heart is beating right now, you are currently experiencing a heart attack. It appears a blood clot has blocked your coronary arteries; you would be dead in eight minutes."