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

" Needless noise from tongues expel Unless within the mouth they dwell The spoken word, unfit for dealing with the shifting form of feeling Stand unblinking in the face of taciturn and soundless space. " I proclaimed to the wind. " ..... The heck is wrong with you? Getting all poetic like that." " It's one of my guarantees of being Misaki's product. " I said as I rolled up my sleeve and pumped magic through my veins to reveal my guarantee tag. " Version 4. 1

I whispered biting my lips to restrain a moan " are you okay ?? " " yeah " oh that wicked mouth " is Remi working on you while I'm talking to you ?? " . " Ella?! " .. " what!! I can hear your ragged breathing. have you seen the news?? " I try to stifle a moan but I'm sure Ella heard it anyways " hmm " " I told you Remi and Elle are fucking... your brother is so disrespectful. " she said to Gold over the phone and I took my eyes as if they're not fucking too

"Promise. I promise. I promise forever. I promise always. I promise never. I promise everything. I promise to the end of time. I promise beyond time." His mouth stays on my wrist. His lips move. His tongue traces my skin. Soft. Slow. Deliberate. Electric. Possessive. Hungry. Worshipful. Desperate. "Ethan—" "Shh. Don't talk. Don't ruin this. Don't break the spell. Don't stop this moment. Don't ruin it. Don't take it away." "Someone could walk in. Anyone could see. Noah could wake up. Vanessa could come down. The whole world could see. The whole world could know. The whole world could judge."

she smiled genuinely making me heart warm up to her. I mastered up a small smile and went inside, I felt my anxiety pipe up and I nodded at them in acknowledgment. One good thing about my family is that they all are comfortable with my silence. Apart from my parents no one knows that I can speak again and no one ever forced me to either. It's better this way. Not having to explain anything to anyone. Staying in my own mind, even though it can be harmful sometimes I don't care. "I'm literally stinking and exhausted right now" I wanted to groan but smiled at what Malaika was saying. She was a nice girl with an even beautiful accent. Her Urdu is to die for, god. That's my new inspiration right

“It’s overwhelming.” Sophia took her hand. “It’s humanity, undivided. This is what we’ve always been — we just forgot how to listen.” --- Lumen Speaks A tremor of gold spread across the horizon. Then, a voice — not heard but felt — rippled through every being present. We-see-through-you. We-become-with-you. The words weren’t language but translation — the resonance turning raw emotion into sound. Sophia knelt, her body aglow. “You’ve entered the dream,” she whispered.

the voice whispers. The words hit. Deep. Because for the first time— it feels true. “No,” I whisper back. “Yes.” “No.” “You lost him.” The world narrows. Sharp. Focused. Painful. “You lost him,” it repeats. “Stop.” “You couldn’t save him.” “Stop.” “You’ll lose everything.” “STOP!” The word explodes out of me. Energy surging violently. The space fractures— cracks spreading outward— forcing everything back. Silence crashes down.

“Is it a direct translation? The full meaning?” A pause behind me. “The one who holds when everything moves,” he said quietly. “But there's a second part to it in the old language. It doesn't translate well into English. Roughly—” Another pause. “The one who holds when everything moves, so that others can.” I stood in the doorway. So that others can. Not just steadfast. Not just holding. Holding so that others could. So that Lily could be twenty-two and in school, making jokes about jaw structure instead of being twenty-two and handling everything on her own.

“You’re not allowed to be with anyone else. You hear me?” There was a brief pause. Then with a slight crack in my voice, I whispered to her one last time. “If I can’t have you…” I stopped and took a deep breath. “No one else can.”

He said, quietly: "I noticed in October." His voice in the room was the particular and specific sound of a man talking to someone who could not hear him, which was, he understood, exactly why he was able to say it. He had been in the particular and specific custody of the words for too long. The room, the dark, the sleeping face of the woman beside him, these were the conditions under which the words could come out without the managed version of himself intercepting them.

You cannot encounter disharmony that no one can speak, but you can pass by unaffected. This is our dream. This is our belief. Remain silent in speech. Let words think deep. Speak to the storm. Let there be then a war between you and disease. You win, you win. You for cannot give in. You for cannot doubt yourself. Even if you know you have a real limit, you need to shine. Shine is also of the bread that speaks little but fulfills life need.