Pining Over Someone Novels & Stories

Or just some troll, some fan, some random person who had stumbled across my profile? I set the phone down, breathing hard. “Don’t ride on this,” I muttered to myself. “It’s probably not her. You’re putting all the blame on her again because you miss her so fucking much. It could be anyone. A fan. A bored account. A setup.” The longing hit harder than the nausea.

That I'd be in those warm arms again. "Me too." Piper groans and Tin and I snap in her direction. "Just some minutes since we last talked and I miss him so very much." What the fuck is this bitch saying? "Yah.....your boyfriend comes over everyday, so you shouldn't be complaining bitch." Tin glares at her. "Keep your mouth shut." "I totally agree." I pour another cup of drink for the three of us. "I can't wait for them to come back." Although we converse everyday it isn't enough to suit my longing for him.

A pang of longing for such affectionate companionship, a yearning for the simple pleasure of sharing food and laughter with someone who genuinely cared. But I am not that lucky; I have never gotten what I wanted.

Nathan’s POV I have been drowning in a sea of despair, suffocating under the weight of Scarlett's absence. Every breath I take, every thought I think, is consumed by her presence. It's as if she's haunting me, her memory taunting me with every passing moment. Just 48 hours ago, I exchanged vows, promising to love and cherish another, but my heart belongs to Scarlett. The ache within me is unbearable. Her unreachable phone line is like a cruel reminder of our separation. I'm trapped in a living nightmare, tormented by the memories of our time together, my mind screaming for her return.

“Hey, Paisley.” “Hey,” I took a seat at the table. “You okay? You seem distracted.” I asked. “Yeah, I’m just feeling depressed lately since everyone around me is getting married, and I can’t even find my mate.” She sighed. “I feel like it may never happen for me,” her face saddened. I scooted closer to her, wrapping my arms around her. “It will happen, I promise.” I squeezed her close to me. Elaina smiled at me as I started making stupid faces, hoping to bring up her spirits, and her attention was quickly grabbed away.

So when they think that… I halt in my movements, my thumb hovering over the screen as I keep myself from typing in 'human beloved'. My heartbeats risk ripping a hole into my chest, and I let my phone fall, burying my face in my hands. What do I do? Do I ask him about it? Is that the reason why he wouldn’t mark me? I read about mates marking each other nearly immediately, so now I feel like a chick that has been waiting to get a ring for twenty years, only to find her boyfriend’s dating profile.

Without that, everything felt incomplete, like reaching for something just out of grasp. I picked up my phone and tried again, pressing it tightly to my ear as I dialed Nic’s number. The familiar ring echoed through the silence, only to end the same way—unanswered. My heart sank with each failed call. I whispered to myself to stay calm, but tears stung my eyes. I missed him fiercely—his touch, his embrace, the way he made me feel untouchable. Without him, the bed was too big, too cold, and each passing moment made the ache sharper. I held the phone to my chest, closing my eyes, wishing it were him instead.

I could endure my own pain, but the thought of her suffering was unbearable. With a flick of my finger, I swiped my phone screen, dialing a number with a sense of urgency. In Lillyand, Peter sat at the banquet table, his mind wandering as he observed the animated conversations around him. The laughter and clinking of glasses felt distant. He had noticed that I hadn’t replied to his messages, and a nagging worry crept into his thoughts. Is she upset with me for being too protective? He found himself staring at my profile picture, longing for a glimpse of my presence.

Thea, where the hell are you? It's your birthday today. We used to go to Central Park to watch the sunset, then have dinner at that little Italian place. Now I'm just sitting here alone. I ordered your favorite tiramisu. The waiter asked if I was waiting for someone. I just shook my head. How do you tell a stranger you're waiting for a ghost? One hundred days. The hundredth day without you. I'm starting to understand what it means to be better off dead. I dream of you every night, dream of our past. Waking up to an empty bed... there are no words for that kind of despair.

Am I being paranoid then? "You're overthinking. You know anyone can say that when they see something that could only be seen once in a life time. Come on." I heaved out another sigh and looked down on my fingers. I fiddled with them as you placed your chin at the top of my shoulder with your eyes fixed on me. You even tightened the hug as you keep attacking with your irresistable softness. Am I really overthinking? "Don't be sad. Hmm?" I turned my head on you. I let out another sigh when I saw how your lips were formed into a tiny pout. Your eyes are looking as if they are sorry for sulking when I should be the one feeling that way.