The Book That Held Her Heart Novels & Stories

Anything. Her fingers grasped a small, forgotten journal. She threw it across the room, the pages fluttering like wounded birds. Moments after she threw it, a forgotten memory resurfaced, and her head snapped to where the book landed–just in front of the door. She rushed to pick it up as a fresh wave of memories crashed down upon her. Her fingers slowly grazed over the cover, nostalgia settling in. A small, strained sigh escaped her lips as she tentatively opened the book.

It was the one I had embroidered for him when I was obsessed with embroidery as a teenager. Eyeing Carl coolly, I declared, "It's over between us, Carl." I smacked his hand, knocking the handkerchief out of his grasp. It fell onto the candle on the table. Instantly, the flames devoured it. Carl fearlessly reached out to grab the handkerchief, but most of it had been reduced to ashes already. With a dazed expression, he looked at me and asked, "You won't even let me keep something to remember you by?"

"This is her book?" He nodded. "I didn't know why it was here in the library. She carried it with her wherever she went. It was her grandmother's book. She gave it to Izza," Blaine said as I sat down next to him, and put a hand on his hand. He looked at me and gave me a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, and I felt my heart breaking for him. He always looked happy, but now there was nothing happy about his look. I opened the book, and Izza's name was written in a beautiful calligraphy in the front of the book. It is a story about a little girl who could control fire magic.

My heart skipped a beat, my tears moist right then. I dropped to a crouch and held him, pressing my ear against his chest again. I could hear his heartbeat, thumping powerfully through his thin shirt. It was such a familiar sensation. It was Stan's heartbeat. As I closed my eyes, my tears flowed ever so quietly. We stayed like that for a while, and as I wiped my tears, I held Nathan firmly in my arms once more. "Please live a good life with Stan's heart." - Nathan walked with me to the gates of the orphanage, but I never once turned to look at him again.

The crowd dispersed, the show over. I stood there for a long time, clutching the book to my chest. My heart was thumping so hard I could hear it in my ears. I looked down at the cover where his hand had been. The “Invisible Girl” was gone, and I could still feel the phantom heat of his fingers on mine.

Feeling the odd fluttering in her heart at the thought of him, she trudge back to the balcony and flopped down on the chair getting completely lost in the book she was holding. {••} Aslan crossed his arms on his chest and leaned on the sliding door, gazing at her with a smile on his face. He stared at her for a while before deciding to make his presence known by grabbing the book from her hand, eliciting a sharp gasp to escape from her lips. Her heart was still beating wildly against her rib cage while she stared at him in horror and when his presence registered in her brain, she threw her arms over him wrapping her legs around his waist.

But all she did was grab the book he'd left for her—the one with the message written on the first page—and hold it close to her chest. For even then, there was still a part of her that didn't want him to ever stop coming.

Determined, she stood up straight, her eyes roaming around the room to take in anything she might have missed thus far. There, in the dimmest recess of the corner, was something shining, it was the oldest and dustiest book. Her heart leapt with a mere glimpse of hope. She rushed over, dusting it with her fingers in great sweeps and tracing out the leather cover with her other hand. Her eyes widened as she read the faded words etched onto it: The Curse of the Moonstone.

This is really stressing me out, and I couldn't wait for it all to be over. The eldest among the elders took the books from me. Others gathered around him as they began glancing through the book. They checked from one book, and then they crossed check from the two other books to see if it would correspond. If I were to be a regular human, my heart would be beating terribly by this time. But fortunately my heart wouldn't move an inch crom it's position or make a single noise. The only person that could ever shake my heart would remain Sally, except Sally, no other person, nor any situation would be capable of making my heart beat, or skip.

This time, she didn't put it back into the book, but carefully placed it into the pocket close to her body, the place nearest to her heart. Outside the window, the red maples were like fire, just like her burning cheeks at this moment, and that heart which had begun to throb unbeknownst to her.