Love Me Artinya Novels & Stories

I believe in love, because it exists, I may not have experienced it yet, but I am not looking for it, I let it find me and maybe it will make me a new person. We would need a hundred words where we have only one, this little word of love that is good for everything and suitable for nothing, this verb to love that hangs out everywhere, that goes for everything, the love of God, love men, self-love, love of others, and I love my mother, and I love my husband, and I love my daughter, and I love my dog ​​(and the more I watch the man , the more I love my dog), and I love fries, and I love Venice, and I love Ravel, and I love your ass, and I love you, and I love to believe it.

I wanted Loli and my mother to know for sure that I would be near be with Loli no matter what they planned. “I have no wife. I only have one person in this world that I love, and that’s you. I said I’ll come back for you. No matter what stands in my way, I will take it down just to have you back in my life.” I said, giving my mother and Loli a hard and determined look. Yes. I was determined to do anything to be with her. Even if I had to force her

********** Sophie's eyes widen the moment she stepped inside her apartment seeing bouquets of red roses everywhere, literally! Her roommate came to her with a cocked brow. “Well, it's from your mystery man.” She handed her a small envelope. And Sophie, as she beams took the small envelope and picked up one of the bouquets of red roses, she giggled. Her tiredness vanished away, a whole day of rehearsal for the upcoming fashion week was wearing her out but a simple gesture from her Julian amd everything's right. ‘Love is a better master than beauty. I'm sorry, I cannot be with you but I miss you.’ - J

"Please, share me with the pain inside you. You know it hurts more for me to let you mourn alone. Share everything with me, madness, sadness, and happiness, share them all with me, because I'm happy to share all I have with you. I love you, Ian. " ...

I don't like other people calling me a sweetie or any other nickname; I just like it when he does it, when he did it. Damn, why do I miss him? Why do I miss his voice, the way he looked at me, his gestures, his hugs, his kisses, all his cute caresses and nicknames he told me? I don't want to miss him, I don't want to feel I don't want anything with him, I don't want to remember "Are you all right?" He asks, somewhat confused and also upset at my expression.

To My Lovely Readers, This previous week I lost my dearest Mom and niece, for now, help me to keep reading and remain for a meantime, and can't wait to write again for an update. Hope you understand. Thank you so much. I've always admired arts for their mesmerizing beauty that brightens up this world, they taught me that a simple art can make you feel something even just by looking at them. That's when I knew I wasn't wrong when I considered him as an art. By staring at his glimmering eyes, that's when I found the most aesthetic art. Thru his eyes, he lightens up the dimmed and doomed place I was once in. He was the colorful painting and I was the lifeless and monochromatic one in a museum.

I love you. *I love you.*

His gaze softened as he wiped my tears away. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. My heart was frantically pounding in my chest when he leaned in. “I love you, Benedykta Rebel. I am utterly in love with you, and I am tired of fighting this feeling that keeps consuming me.” His lips met mine fiercely as I wrapped my arms around his neck. It was filled with raw passion and need.

"The man who loves to hate me." And his hatred has become my fixation, a twisted allure I'm powerless to resist.

Does that mean. he loves me?