Lovely Diaries Novels & Stories

"Now, Y'all should write a composition of the person you love the most and why you love the person" Jake swiftly raised his hand. "Huh? Yes, Jake? Any question?" Miss Hannah asked. "Yes," Jake replied and stood up. "Go on" Miss Hannah smiled. "How do we know we are in love with someone?" Jake asked. Everyone looked at Jake. "Well, Your heart tells you who you love the most. It beats happily when you are close to the person. Your eyes don't want to stop watching that person. Your ears aren't tired of hearing that person's voice and a lot more"

"Hi, Del. Where are you from? I've been looking for you since yesterday. Why did you disappear, huh?" Delmar was silent and just looked at Brisa with a sad look. For eighteen years of friendship, Brisa can read if now Delmar is not in good condition. Even though his best friend didn't say anything. "Wait a moment." Brisa stopped the person who was decorating her nails. Nails that have been colored silver and will now be decorated with small white gems.

A very elegant design covered the book cover and the words written on the first page filled my heart with nostalgia and longlines. "Personal diary of Aurora Sapphire Brown" Flipping through the pages of the diary at once my eyes saw how her handwriting changed from a kid to an adult...as the dates and years passed with a flip my hand stopped on her last entry ...... Date 27th Feb Time :2 am I can't sleep again ... The medicines are of no use when his eyes haunt my nights... Those cold eyes were again looking at me with hate... Hate is nothing new. I am used to it now...but his hate matters

I open the book again and flip back to the first page of the book deciding to read the inscription handwritten there in neat small letters; "This diary belongs to Jennifer Bennet, beginning 21st February 1975" I glance at Thomas, who has been watching me as I inspected the book, and I see he looks just as shocked as I am. I am currently holding the previous Luna's personal diary. Her son, our current Alpha, is sharing this most personal possession of his mother's with me? Encouraging me to read her private thoughts and feelings? I admit, I was intrigued before but now I am torn. Do I read the Ex-Lunas diary? Can I really do that? Diaries are so intensely personal and private.

UNKNOWN POV DEAR DIARY, She grows beautiful each and every passing day. It was just yesterday she was a child, and now she has tits and curves in all the right places. I stare at her through this broken mirror, I see her every step, her every move… I feel pain when she’s happy, and I relish in the joy her sadness brings me. She is mine, Diary. Mineee! Oh, it won’t be long now…

Without thinking about it, I approached her and stole a kiss, and I did not want to hear more nonsense of evil plans, apologies, or any other nonsense. Diana clung to me tightly, and I could feel her heartbeat. I could feel again like the atmosphere relaxed, and everything returned to its place. Well, dad, you were right. The troubles are the most fun. I ran a hand through her hair, took the hair out of her eyes. Now I could see those two green drops. The same eyes that I had fallen in love with, two dark declines now brimmed with life and joy. "Come on, let's get on the boat." Diana took me by the hand and, with her own strength, got me up.

Anna pov I leaned back in my chair, twirling my pen between my fingers, trying not to stare… but let’s be honest, I was failing miserably. Professor Jeff was at the board, writing notes with his sleeves rolled up. The tiny flex of his arm as he moved, the way his tie brushed against his chest… my stomach flipped with every little movement. I couldn’t help the quickening of my pulse, the little shiver running down my spine. God… he’s ridiculously… perfect. And just thinking about him… I bit my lip, feeling a heat rush through me. I wish he could take me now…

Enjoy the journey ............. Emily POv : I was rearranging my cupboard, sorting through the piles of clothes and forgotten items, my fingers brushed against something unexpected—a diary. My diary. I paused, feeling a rush of memories flood back at the sight of the worn, weathered cover. It had been so long since I last laid eyes on it, tucked away amidst the clutter of my belongings. With curiosity, I retrieved the diary from its hiding place, feeling the weight of years past in my hands. As I flipped through its pages, the familiar scrawl of my own handwriting greeted me, each entry a window into moments long gone but not forgotten.

This is the diary that Grace found in her room. The diary with poems, figured, you'd want to read it. I met a girl today, beautiful and beautiful and beautiful and everything including beautiful. I don’t believe in love at first sight but I should or else I don’t know what to name this. Tragedy of souls that binds, that blinds, and all the wounds she gave me, wounds that I don’t mind, wounds I don’t hide, I confide,

Cozy enough for one human being only. I tried to open one of the boxes to put the picture frame inside, but as soon as I opened the box, I was taken aback by the small lavender notebook with flowers painted on the cover. Curious, I picked up the notebook and opened it. (Arranged marriage sucks!) I immediately closed the notebook. Did Dad own this notebook? At the first read of the first sentence… I think it's a diary. (Marrying someone you don't love sucks so bad! I don't know why I was born with a golden spoon! I hate having a rich family! I hate them for controlling my life!)