Puisi Dear Nathan Novels & Stories

ANNA Anna stood at her desk and stared at the top sheet someone had placed, right in front of her monitor. Her own words stared back at her, transcribed in clean black font, every slurred syllable captured for public consumption. Transcription: Voice Note – 2:17 AM Cousiiiiin. You are so beautiful. Did anyone ever tell you that? … You are the number one on my list. Another sheet had her completed beauty list. List of men I'd let ruin me, with a blank space where Enoch's name should have been, left empty like a taunt.

But with Nathan, everything felt more vibrant, more reachable. The gallery was small but brimming with emotion. Each painting seemed to hold a story. There was one that stopped me in my tracks—a swirl of color, bold reds and soft blues, the outline of two figures dancing beneath a sky of stars. I felt something deep in my chest, like recognition. "It looks like us," Nathan whispered beside me. "At least how I feel when I'm with you." My eyes burned as I blinked rapidly. "You're becoming dangerously poetic." He smiled. "Maybe you've just inspired a poet."

Then she heard Nathaniel's singing, the lyrics soothe in her heart. She sits in front of them and listens to Nathaniel while singing and strumming his guitar. If a picture paints a thousand words, Then why can't I paint you? The words will never show that you, I've come to know. *** Nathaniel looked at Kristyina's eyes while serenading her... If a face could launch a thousand ships, Then where am I to go? There's no one home but you, You're all that's left me too. And when my love for life is running dry,

GIOVANNI I stood frozen in disbelief as I stared at the matte black Lora Piano bag and cashmere sweater now swallowed by empty water bottles and greasy napkins. She didn't even wait to see my reaction, she simply turned, grabbed her friend, then disappeared into the hallway not even sparing me a glance. “Ouch,” Nathan drawled, stepping out from the shadow of the hallway, his voice filled with amusement. “ Gio, it seems your charms are malfunctioning. You might want to get that checked out before midterms. Could be terminal”

The cry of another newborn behind nursery glass. And yet, in Nathan’s world, everything had stopped. He pressed a palm flat against the cold wall, almost steadying himself. A storm was building behind his ribs—grief, confusion, desperation… and then, finally, rage. His voice came low. Controlled. Almost eerily soft. NATHAN (whispers) She’s mine. His lips barely moved, but the words felt carved from his bones. NATHAN Mine. Not hers. Not his. Mine. The baby squirmed lightly in her sleep. A nurse walked past, unaware of the eyes watching from the dark.