No One Else Can Speak The Words On Your Lips Novels & Stories

She tried to blow it off, but her mind betrayed her. Her lips betrayed her, parting open as if ready to protest but failing to let out words. She tried to tell him not to be so touchy when there were others around. But all her attempts came out wrong, like a cry for help. The only argument her mind could make up was, “there are people here.” And her lips delivered the sheepish words in the meekest tone ever. To that his response would always be, “so?” To which she was unable to formulate any other argument. She wanted to talk, but her lips betrayed her.

I spit at him as a scream erupts from my lips. My back aches and I swear I can feel my vertebrae splintering as they rearrange. Searing heat in my throat forces me to open my mouth to suck in air, but instead of breathing in, I exhale a soft breath and time stands still. A hundred voices speak to me, words I don’t understand as the men before me remain motionless, stuck in the constraints of time where I live outside its boundary. “In a lifetime meant for one, a queen lives a hundred times over, destined for greatness, bound by one soul, the fate of the world remains firmly in her control,” the words tumble from my lips, words I have never heard or spoken on my own.

His voice dropped even lower. "Remember this. The next man might be a lot worse than me. So maybe start thinking harder about the people you trust." I tried to answer. I couldn’t. Why can’t I talk? Something filled my mouth, slick and unfamiliar, cutting off even my ability to breathe properly. My lips moved, but no sound came out. My throat refused to obey me. And then everything stopped. Warm breath brushed across my damp lips. "You’re adorable..." Those were the last words I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.

Apollo “Lick it.” The words echoed through the hall. Everyone froze. No one dared to speak or move, afraid I might turn my attention to them instead. The boy on his knees looked up at me, stunned. His lips trembled, his eyes wide in disbelief, like he couldn’t comprehend what he’d just heard from my mouth. “W-what…?” “I didn’t stutter, did I?” I looked down at him coldly. “I believe English is your first language. Or is it hard for you to comprehend two simple words?”

I bleed bonds from wrists to paper for those who forget. The girl puts heat to words, and they take offence like old men when the young stop saying father. I swear my knee… curls. Hair goes first, then bone. Letters hook, ash, shine. Threads snap overhead like a harp torn by fistfuls. Collars slip. A wolf touches his neck, finds it empty, and cries as if his name returned improved. “You cannot,” I say, calmly. “Words cannot be unspoken.” “I can burn them,” she says, and smiles like wine you didn’t order but drink.

All non-stories are this. Appearing as silence. Only this. The light that is. The love that is. The being that is. The story that is. The silence that is. Only this. The final word is not spoken. Because there is no mouth. The final silence is not heard. Because there is no ear. The final understanding is not thought. Because there is no mind. The final peace is not felt. Because there is no heart. Only this. The light that is. The love that is.

Somewhere in a grove no one could map, a book lay open on a flat stone its pages blank save for a single line, written not in ink, but pressed with intention: “Here is where we did not speak and still, the world listened.” A wind turned the page. Then left it open for the next to come.

“The Throat of Echoes.’ The legendary graveyard where broken selves go to scream their final truths before silence swallows them whole. I try to speak, to warn the others, but my throat burns like I've swallowed molten silver. The pain is excruciating, yet somehow words still pour from my lips—urgent, desperate, ‘mine’. The other versions of me turn their heads, hearing my voice clearly despite the chaos around us. But something's wrong. The words feel... distant. Like they're traveling through water to reach my own ears. I watch my mouth move, feel my vocal cords vibrate, but there's a disconnect—as if I'm watching someone else speak with my voice.

This is how I felt every time I saw and heard her sing and play any musical instrument before. Try to lock me in this cage I won't just lay me down and die I will take these broken wings And watch me burn across the sky Hear the echo saying I... Won't be silenced Though you wanna see me tremble when you try it All I know is I won't go speechless Speechless 'Cause I'll breathe When they try to suffocate me Don't you underestimate me 'Cause I know that I won't go speechless All I know is I won't go speechless

And now, here he was helpless, cornered, awaiting her judgment. The man tried to speak, his voice breaking through cracked lips. “P….please… I didn’t mean for it” Lia raised a single finger, silencing him before he could finish. “Do not speak his name.” Her tone was sharp, merciless. “You lost the right to speak at all the moment his blood stained your hands.”