Longing Look Novels & Stories

5 years at that moment seemed like nothing to them. They acted so naturally that they didn't realize how harmonious they could be. Not even a word was spoken but it felt like they knew exactly what the person in front of them thought and they acted exactly as expected. Time froze as they looked into each other's eyes. It's been 5 years, their appearances have changed quite a bit, yet they can tell at first glance that that's their childhood friend. Just then, Lydia's phone buzzed.

In fact, silently he was begging for more, wanting more. “Probably isn’t.” He gave her room to move, gave her room to stop anything that was forthcoming. But she didn’t. She stared at him like he was staring at her; a longing in her eyes that he knew was in his as well. She licked her lips, and his eyes followed that movement and a tightening in his pants was telling him that watching that wasn’t another bright move. Well, he had a suspicion that there was going to be a lot of that right now.

Alexi the great sounds exhausted and it makes me falter as I leg it to the door; I turn back and glance his way. I’m not prepared for the way he’s looking at me and for a moment I feel guilty … even though I have no reason to be. He’s eating me with his eyes, so pale and haunting under a furrowed brow that gives him a lost wounded boy look—a look of remorse that is probably not real; and something else. A longing that I don’t know what to place it on. Probably just for me to behave if I know him. The look spurs a moment of unveiled honesty from me by this mouth, which sometimes acts without thought and I cringe as it comes out.

She was perfect in every pose. Lying on the couch, asleep. So peaceful, so sweet, so angelic. Dancing alone or with the others. Bon Dieu… the expression on her face was magnificent: it was a mix of pure joy, happiness, ecstasy, and so many other emotions. Laughing and talking to the people around her… While laughing, her eyes were closed, her head thrown back. But this pose was what he’d always wanted, craved to see… Blaze gloriously, utterly naked, her body his to capture, if not to touch. Fabien knew she was gorgeous, but what he was seeing was going beyond his wildest thoughts and expectations.

Seeing as he had barely looked at me as though the mere sight of me would assault him- I was taken aback when he cupped my face with a single hand and in a breathing second I found myself lost in those magnetic, intense gray eyes. Gosh he was magnificent and he was giving me that look that made me weak at the knees. That well disguised look of longing, that subtle I want to take you right here look. A breath caught in my throat as his hand went to the back of my head and his face inched into mine. My eyes instinctively closed and I waited to feel those soft, textured lips on mine.

Whatever I felt, his eyes reflected. Longing is like a gentle tug at the heart, a soft melody that plays in the background of your thoughts. It's the yearning for something that feels just out of reach, a bittersweet ache that lingers in the depths of your soul. Longing is the whispered prayers sent out into the universe, the searching gaze that seeks solace in the night sky. It's the delicate dance between hope and despair, the tender embrace of a love yet to be realized. At its core, longing is a beautiful reminder of our capacity to dream and to yearn for a brighter, more fulfilling future.

She felt her stupid heart flutter as the light caught his ebony curls, turning it to burnished gold, his green orbs twinkling with delight as he practically charmed the socks of his latest prey. Suddenly, as if feeling her gaze on him, his eyes snapped to hers, their gazes meeting. Marco Vitale's gorgeous eyes, usually alight with cunning, darkened with genuine hunger as he caught sight of her. He bit his lip and immediately flame licked down her spine. Dismissing his quarry like a child would their toy, he moved through the throng of guests – politicians, businessmen, and the shadowed figures that comprised their world – with a predator's grace, his focus solely on her.

Emily let out a soft hum, like she wasn’t convinced. She didn’t believe me. That shouldn’t have bothered me, but for some reason, it did. I watched her carefully, studying the sharp angles of her face, the slight tilt of her chin, the way her fingers lightly tapped against the blanket. Her expression was blank, distant. But then…just for a second…something shifted. A flicker of something in her eyes. Something she wasn’t ready to admit. Longing. It was so fast I almost thought I imagined it.

He asks as they continue looking at each other. Was it a look of longing? Oh god. I am going to be sick. I hate how I get stomach aches when I get anxious. Why does she look so sweet and innocent?

Monster. Longing. A desperate, aching pull towards Ethan that felt like a physical cord attached to my sternum, yanking me towards the cliff edge. The memory of his kiss wasn't just sensual; it was a homecoming and an awakening. It had stripped away the numbness, revealing a depth of feeling I’d buried so deep I’d convinced myself it was dead. But it was alive, ravenous, terrifying. I want him. God help me, I still want him.