Os Olhos Dele Abriram Simple Silence Novels & Stories

This time it continued. A young being walked away from the others. Away from the laughter. Away from the stories. Toward the lonely figure. The solitary one looked shocked. As though nobody had ever approached before. The newcomer smiled. Kindly. Gently. Then spoke a single name. The Sea exploded with light. The blooming tree illuminated the horizon. The forgotten lives gasped. The Witness opened its eyes. And for the first time in eternity— The Silence remembered. Not everything. Not yet. Just one thing.

Bella's POV The silence that followed was the longest silence I had ever sat inside. I couldn't hear anything except my own breathing and the faint crackle of the fire in the grate and the sound of my own heartbeat which was considerably louder than it had any right to be. I opened one eye. Slowly. Just one, just a fraction, peeking at him through my lashes because I needed to see his face before I opened the other one and fully committed to looking. His face was doing nothing.

I didn’t respond, I could feel the seconds stretching, the silence pressing harder than before, amplifying everything, the ropes cutting into my skin, the energy thickening around me, the frustration building in my chest. “Please,” I said finally, the word tasting wrong but necessary, “if this is part of whatever you’re doing then fine, but I can’t see, I can’t even open my eyes, at least let me understand why.” The silence lingered longer this time, stretching thin before he spoke again. “Open your eyes.” I stilled, didn't he hear what I just told him? “I just told you I can’t.” I let out. “Open them.” he said again.

"Amaya... fuckkkkkk!" My eyes snapped open. I froze, my fingers still pressed against my clit, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I leaned back, but it was too late. Silas had opened his eyes. Our gaze locked. His eyes were dark, blown out with lust, his chest heaving. His hand was still wrapped around his cock, which was leaking thick, clear pre-cum. He wasn't just jerking off. He had been calling my name. He had been thinking of me. The thought of it made my nipples become harder.

And though the truth is heavy, you are not standing in the dark alone. For a long minute, we stayed like that the girl who had lost everything and the man who had lost his soul to the very thing he was trying to protect. The silence was no longer a weapon; it was a sanctuary. Then, the heavy oak doors of the sunroom swung open with a sudden, sharp creak that shattered the peace. We both started. Standing in the doorway was Silas. He was pale, his grey wolf ears pressed flat against his messy hair, his teal eyes wide and shimmering with a mixture of shock and profound, searing hurt.

Her eyelashes flutter once. Then again. Slowly, like she is fighting her way back from somewhere deep. Her lips part slightly, a small breath escaping like her body is remembering how to function again. And then her eyes open. Not fully steady. Not strong. But open. And they land on me. Confused. Soft. Alive. My entire world stops in that second. Because five months of silence just ended in one breath. My grip tightens around her hand immediately, like I am afraid she will disappear again if I let go.

A single note, suspended. He moves. A deep sigh, a change in the rhythm of his breathing. His eyelids flutter, open. His eyes search the darkness, land on me. He says nothing. He sees the pale silhouette leaning against the doorframe, the triangle of shadow between my legs, the curve of my breasts lit by the distant glow. He sees the waiting. He stands up.

Silas whispered, disappearing into a blur of speed. ​Elara closed her eyes. At first, there was only darkness. Then, she felt it, the vibration of a footstep, the scent of Silas’s cologne, the shift in the wind. When Silas tried to tap her shoulder from behind, she spun and caught his wrist in a death grip, her eyes snapping open with a flash of silver.

Images rushed at me, blurry, fast, sharp. He tried to scream. His mouth opened wide, throat straining as panic overtook him. Instantly, I whispered beneath my breath, low and firm: “Silencio.” And just like that, the sound cut out. His mouth still moved frantically, eyes wide with terror, but no sound came out. It was like watching someone trapped behind glass, screaming in a void. I walked behind him, and pressed my fingers at the side of his head. “Show me,” I whispered, letting the power pull me deeper.

“You used to be cold, calculating, mean, and powerfully arrogant. Now, you’re stuttering over pregnancy pamphlets and struggling to meet my gaze.” Our eyes locked and I almost gasped as the chair scraped the ground, in a moment, we were eye to eye again. This time, close enough for me to feel his breath on my skin. “I need you to listen to me, listen well, okay?” I frowned, what was he about to say? Had I said something wrong?