Novel & Cerita Novel Insecurity

He pulled back, allowed me to sit up a little, but didn't resist pinning me to the bed. I inhaled. "I don't know how to say this. You see, I kind of feel… a bit insecure about our relationship." "I don't get you." His eyebrows cocked at me. "Ever since Kath came to the store that night, I feel like someone might try to do something to our relationship." "But why do you think so?" He used his thumb finger to caress my jaw, then played the finger through the little pimples on my cheek. I shrugged. "If we were like, you know… kind of married, no one would be able to come our way. But, as long as we don't have that bond, anyone can crawl in at any time."

I watched her—the rise and fall of her shoulders under that rough wool blanket—and felt a sickening sense of possession that I couldn't distinguish from terror. ​The security monitors to my left flickered. Gray-scale ghosts moved through the library three floors above. They were systematic, tearing the spines off the books I’d meticulously curated for her, looking for safes that didn't exist and secrets I carried in my head. They were vultures picking at a carcass, but as long as that steel door held, they were picking at the wrong body. ​My phone vibrated against my thigh—a low, rhythmic pulse. I pulled it out, the screen’s glare biting into my eyes.

Something else entirely, hurried, almost frantic, like whoever wrote it had done so in a great deal of fear. The mark on her arm was never the only insurance we built into her. Ines made certain of that, long before you ever learned her name. You broke one binding tonight. You have no idea how many are left, or how deep they run, or what happens to the child if all of them activate at once instead of one at a time. I read it twice, my hands beginning to shake, before I looked up at Kael, the fragile peace of moments ago gone as completely as if it had never existed at all.

“One truth buys you freedom. One lie closes the door forever.” Celine’s chest clenched. Her fingers dug into the seam of her notebook, nails biting the leather cover. She hadn’t written a contingency for this—how could she? The projector whined faintly, the images shivering as though impatient. Then the question landed, sharp and intimate. “What do you want more—safety, or control?” The air thickened. Celine felt it coil around her throat, an invisible rope tugging tighter the longer she stayed silent. Her mind fractured between instinct and calculation. Safety meant hiding, staying small, disappearing into corners where no one asked questions. Control meant stepping forward, claiming decisi

"His innocent." Hey guys! Luna is back again! As I promised here is my seventh book! Rejected and insecure, sad beginning yeah, I know. I strongly believe you'll love it, please vote and comment, that will encourage me to finishing this book, a thousand miles starts with a step, so here is my first step, I'll need feedback. VOTE!

“Don’t play games with me. The guards are looking for an intruder. Seen near my wing.” I barked a short, humorless laugh, the sound startling her. “And you automatically think it’s me? Gods, Jessica, your insecurity is pathological. Not everything is about you. Maybe a raccoon tripped a sensor. Or maybe one of your father’s countless enemies is finally paying a visit.” I took a step closer, lowering my voice to a venomous whisper. “Or maybe you’re just so paranoid about people discovering your secrets that you’re seeing spies in the shadows. How’s that working out for you?”

The narrative I was weaving was one of impending loss, of a love I was not worthy of, of a partner who was slowly but surely slipping away. The sharp edge of this insecurity wasn't just confined to my thoughts; it bled into my actions. I became more clingy, more desperate for reassurance, which, I suspected, only pushed Earnest further away. My attempts to be more "interesting," more like Victoria, felt forced and unnatural, a performance that was slowly but surely draining my spirit. I was caught in a vicious cycle: the more insecure I felt, the less I was myself, and the less I was myself, the more insecure I became.

Nova The fear was a thin, cold film over everything. Forget the Cold War; that shit is dead now. We had something way more hectic: enforced emotional closeness. Killian had saved my life, and that fact was this massive, inconvenient boulder I couldn't just ignore. I knew the truth about his weakness and insecurities, but I kept that knowledge locked away tight, like a secret crush. On this island, though? It was just me and him. No one else to see us.

He’s still hot and I still get jealous. With my legs crossed, I lean back into the seat, my head turned to the side as I gaze out of the window beside me. I cross my arms tightly around me, hugging myself as I surrender to my most detrimental quality: insecurity. I fucking hate this. “Are you really doing this again, Elysian?” Cade’s voice cuts through the quiet, annoyance lacing his tone. Again? I grit my teeth, turning to glare at him, “Am I really doing what again, Cade?”

She crossed the room anyway and lay down beside him, careful of his shoulder, and let him gather her against his good side. "Talk to me," she said softly, tracing the edge of the fresh bandage. "Really talk. Not the version you give the board." He was quiet for a long moment, staring at the ceiling. "I've spent two years building walls so thick nothing could get through them again. Money. Security. Control. I told myself if I controlled everything hard enough, nothing could burn twice." A humorless huff of breath. "Then a man in a mask puts a gun on you in my own house, and I understand for the first time that none of it — the money, the walls — none of it can actually keep you safe. It neve