I've Got Thick Skin And An Elastic Heart Novels & Stories

I expect she'll believe and accept my claim. It's obvious her desires and only survival mode. My fingers run fiercely across my nose. My tongue furiously lick my lips. My heart thumping heightens. It heightens abd surpasses an average beating heart. My lips slowly and gradually ajar. My inner throat instantly goes chilly and freezing. It feeks innerly heavy, painful, tough and spiky. I exhale. My breath thickly evolves. It's a polar region look alike. It's all chilly and frosty.

~ELENA~ I can’t breathe. Not because I’m suffocating, but because I’ve never felt so alive. Every part of me burns…. my throat, my thighs, my lips. My skin is hot, raw, sensitive, as though they’ve written their names across me with every kiss, every thrust, every brutal promise. I’m shaking from need.

But instead, they seemed to mirror the thoughts within him, it's light reflecting his thoughts. He had spent years building walls around his heart, guarding it fiercely against any potential hurt or disappointment since the demise of his wife. Yet, Mitchell had effortlessly broken those barriers, leaving him exposed. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was a mix of fear, excitement, and a longing for something he couldn't quite define.

Just panic stuck in my throat. My heart is going insane. It is beating too fast and too hard and it hurts, it really hurts, like it is slamming into my ribs on purpose. My chest feels tight, like wire is wrapped around it and someone keeps pulling and pulling and does not care if it snaps. My skin burns and buzzes at the same time and I can feel everything. The sheets. Every wrinkle. Every stupid little thread scratching me like it is alive. Something inside me feels open. Raw. Like it got torn apart and nobody bothered to put it back.

Always the manacles. “Stretch your legs,” Thick-Neck grunted, voice like gravel under boots. “Don’t run. You won’t like what happens next.” I didn’t dignify it with a reply. Just swung my legs over the side and stepped down. The earth felt wrong, too soft, too indifferent. My ankles throbbed from disuse; my spine felt like someone had taken a mallet to it. But the real hurt lived higher up, lodged behind my eyes like shrapnel.

I am the girl in her skin. And I’ve never felt more alive.

The curse on my heart leaves me with only a few short years—just eight years left. I press a hand against my chest, feeling the sharp, invisible spike that’s slowly tightening, constricting every beat. It’s not just a curse, it’s a ticking clock. And as much as I try to live with it, there are nights like this when it feels unbearable. I feel like going insane sometimes.

Everything here is just so thin. I’m starting to go the same way: thin, tangled, lifeless hair. I’ve got more gum than teeth and I hear the soldiers say my thin body isn’t worth anything. I scoff. I dream of finding a life that’s more than the constant monotony of scrubbing floors and fending off beatings.

I understood what made her build a thick skin. There were some of her thoughts buried deep that I felt like I would be prying too much. Those thoughts were hidden deep. It must be about something that hurt her so much. I never went further to know what those thoughts were. Even now that she was here caring for me. She was still licking her wounds. Her silver hair is marked as the identity of a powerful woman. one who had seen pain and bared loss. Looking at her skin, she had no visible wrinkles. She would have been a beautiful woman when she was younger.

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." I try to smile, but my lips barely move, frozen like the rest of me. I nod too quickly, too mechanically, wrapping my arms around myself as a sudden chill spreads through my body, raising goosebumps across my skin. My heart thunders against my ribcage, threatening to break free.