Little Thing Called First Love Novels & Stories

"Yeah. Atasha Valverde. She was... my first love." The phrase hit me unexpectedly. My heart gave a small, irrational sting. First love. There was a weight in those words, a kind of tenderness you could never quite replace. I took a quiet breath, willing myself to stay composed, but jealousy brushed faintly across my chest like smoke.

The autumn night was chilly, and Ryan sat on the balcony of his bedroom, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring blankly into the void. Seven years had passed. He thought those unhappy memories had been buried with time, but now they were more vivid than ever. He remembered the first time he met Eudora. He was immediately captivated by her beauty. As they spent more time together, he was drawn to her gentle and caring nature. They were each other's first love, their excited and naive feelings, passionate and intense, like a powerful stimulant, something you never forget. If only that sweet love could have lasted forever. No misunderstandings, no seven years apart, no pain and humili

Another detail about my love story, about the first time I saw Him. Many people say that the person you meet and fall in love is never right one for you but just an infactuation. Please I beg to defer. Amidst the confusion of friendship, love at first sure, tired of love and living my weaknesses away, , I noticed that young man was special. I am not so sure of what he looked like on that first night when he visited aside his soft palms because and, because I can testify that the love had closed down most of my senses.

He succeeded in avoiding the truck but a loud crash was heard followed by the tumbling of their car thrice before it lands. "Bella..." Her mom called weakly "Arabella..." She called again and little Bella opened her eyes slowly "Mom" She cried feeling pains all over her "Bella, get out of the car" She said and the little girl keep crying before opening the door strategically going out. Just when she was out, she turned back to face her parents. From her dead dad back to her half conscious mom. "Mommy and daddy will always love you remember" Her mother managed to say She nodded with tears still in her eyes

Or find his family. A poem from an ancient book she’d read in the confines of her childhood home suddenly crossed her mind. Her favorite line had been: “When love exists on a soul level it transcends Time and space… it is eternal. “Hakeem,” Rosalie called out weakly. Hakeem didn’t say anything, he just stared at her, holding onto her hand tightly, while his other hand lay on her stomach tenderly, and tears rolled down his face. “Let's meet again…” She paused breathing heavily. “On the day of the first snow_” Her voice threatened to fail her.

He stared into my eyes with pain and regret. "I'm not sorry that I love you, I'm not sorry that you're still the one I need and want. You're the one that makes my heart beat, when I see you smile I smile too and when you're dad I'm sad too that's how much I love you". I didn't know that I was crying until he wiped the tears off my cheeks with his thumb. He brought his hand to the back of my neck and before I knew it he pulled his lips closet and kissed me. It was a soft kiss filled with passion and love.

"Hmm...what do you want to know? Well, where should I start? For your information, I don't date many woman." "How about starting from your first love?" "First love, huh? Alright. She's not ugly, quite filthy and… smelly." "Be serious!" Thea hit him. "How could there be a woman like that!" "Of course I'm serious! If you hit me again, I'll feed you sleeping pills!" Kay threatened her. "Okay. I'm sorry. Please continue ... " His memory drifted to the first time Kay saw her. The setback in his eye clearly visible.

As if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. I used to think love had to be dramatic. Big gestures. Life-changing declarations. Now I know that love is the small things. The coffee. The hand on your shoulder. The person who stays. --- I closed the journal. "I love you," I said to the empty room. "I know," I imagined her replying. "I mean it." "I know." --- The baby was born in April. Celeste Clara. Small, red-faced, with dark hair and a cry that could shatter glass. Sofia sent a photo within hours — the three of them, mother, mother, child, in a hospital room flooded with light.

Thought about the word that had arrived unexpected and direct and without her having decided it was coming. Love. Small and specific and its own particular thing. Beginning. ---

Matt even stared at him while a hand holding a beer was resting on the back of the sofa, and a foot was resting on the couch. “I will tell you the difference between first love and true love so you know who Gaby is. First Love, she’s your everything. It seems to be the worst when you fight, but in general, the only thing you fight is jealousy, childishness, and embarrassment. In first love, it’s okay even if you don’t meet every day. You can easily fall in love with her and always think she has someone else, so she has no time for you. It’s also possible she just asked you, and then you’re super defensive; you’re being chatty. She is not your priority most of the time, and the breakup is lik