Para Sa Hopeless Romantic Novels & Stories

"Jenna, I'm sorry. I hurt you with my words. Now, I want to apologize to you in front of everyone." He lifted his voice just enough for everyone to hear. "Jenna, I love you! I swear, from today on, it's only you!" He grew emotional as he spoke, his voice turning hoarse. "Jenna, it's not that you can't live without me. I'm the one who can't live without you!" Applause broke out. Balloons slipped their strings and spun into the sky. For a beat, it looked exactly like the night he lit up the skyline.

"Whatever do you think? I mean who would ever believe that that word would actually come out of your mouth? You caught me off guard and for a moment I thought I had married a hopeless romantic man." "I am a hopeless romantic." "Then go to sleep, Mr. Hopeless romantic." I replied and covered myself with the comforter again as I turned my back at him. "I am going to let you go this time, because I know that you are too shy to accept what you have just said. But next time, I am going to make sure to taste every part of you," he replied, and I felt him lie down and his arms around me. I didn't object to that because I didn't want to have another conversation with him because I was sure that he w

Girls in bikinis running around,some people playing at the ocean tide,some lovers acting all romantic and showing affection,kids building sand houses. "Awwnn...look at that....so sexy"says Nina whose attention is solely fixed on lovers showing affection and acting romantic toward each other. "Look at what?"Says Jane who was trying to figure out what it was that was making her friend trip. "The lovers ofcourse...just look at the romantic scene"she says blushing "Stop looking at them like that before they see you which will in turn make them uncomfortable". "I don't care"says Nina,a beautiful young lady in her late 20s,long hair,body shape like an hour glass,slim and fair in complexion.

I am a 29-year-old woman. Feeling lost, feeling broken since I was 20. An accident ruined my life, my future, and my hope. Someone I really loved left me because I am useless. I have been useless for how many years… because of my paraplegia. Now, I want to tell you the story that gave me hope… and love. Let's start from when I was 21. A year after the accident. -- “Hey, Blair.”

In my darkest hour Thoughts of her sear my brain Burning desire all but consumes me Her touch is all that could ease my pain Eyes like pools that I want to drown in The stars above have nothing on her She’s the beauty that I Admire from afar I long to hold her and make her mine But I stop, what is stopping me? I could hold her, she could be mine if she would let me. I take another swig from my beer. Have I gone soft? Fuck! She is messing with my head! When I love people I get hurt or they get hurt. I get up and finish my beer then go back to bed. I still have a couple hours until sunrise. **************************************************************

He offered and handed his pill to me, bringing a bright smile to my face. "Thanks bro." I thanked him, and he winked, rushing out. That was how he saved me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my secret would be exposed. This was a dangerous path to tread—the type that would bring disaster and death at the end. It was that type of romance that has no happy ending. I knew this, and I should stay away. The best option was to kill her and save myself from falling harder, but my powers are weak in front of her.

If you cannot return them yet, then never you worry - I love you enough to sustain us both. Your loving Vincent She couldn't read the letter without sighing. She'd never thought of herself as someone who put much stock in big, romantic gestures or in dramatic declarations of feelings - unlike several of her girlfriends, she'd never really been into romance novels or romantic comedies - but Vincent's words moved her. Maybe it was because it was real. A real live person had written these things, shared these words. Maybe it was because after everything she'd experienced, she still hadn't given up on love, not completely. It might not exist for her, perhaps, but as long as it existed somewhere,

On the very top was a note that read: [Rachelle, I know that you need 500 thousand dollars for your transplant surgery. I’m sorry I could only save 143 thousand dollars. I wanted to save more, but I didn’t have enough time. For the rest, I hope I can protect you and help you win the lottery from the other side. [I’m sorry for not seeing you. I’m too ugly now, and I didn’t want to scare you. And Jonah, I don’t blame you for leaving me. Be good to Rachelle. She’s more suited to be your wife than I am.]

“I’ve been told I can be a little… too much. But I’m working on it. Therapy and things.” He almost seems embarrassed to admit it, like confessing to therapy is more vulnerable than confessing to drugging someone. I squeeze his hand gently. “I don’t think you’re too much.” I tilt my head and let my eyes go soft. “There’s nothing to apologise for in giving as much as your heart allows. You’re simply… a hopeless romantic.” The light that spreads across his face reaches his mouth in a slow, wondering smile. “That’s the first time I’ve thought about it that way. A hopeless romantic.” He turns his hand under mine, threading our fingers together, and his grip is warm and eager and trembling slightl

A flicker of the hope she’d written about in her letter stirred, fragile and terrifying. He must have seen the slight shift in her expression. Very slowly, giving her every opportunity to pull away, he reached out his hand across the space that separated them. He didn’t try to touch her. He simply laid his palm open on the cool sand between them, an invitation. A question. His eyes held hers, no longer full of stormy arrogance or cold detachment, but filled with a desperate, vulnerable hope that mirrored her own. “Just… let me try,” he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. “Let me fix what I broke.”