The Longing Books Novels & Stories

I could only hope that she would have settled in again by tonight, because otherwise I would be allowed to sleep on the couch one night again - and it was really uncomfortable. Sighing, I leaned back and opened the completely tattered book again, which I actually already knew by heart. But I wanted to repeat as much as possible today so that I could get off to a good start tomorrow. I ran my finger over the familiar table of contents. Foreword, evolution, instinct, social life, physiology, reproduction, ancestry, stem groups and subspecies. How many times had I made this movement with my finger? I couldn't count it anymore, but it was like a little ritual I had to go through before I could s

I didn’t understand why but I felt a hollowness within the confines of my heart. The feeling had been persistent for the past one month ever since I heard the news but I had assumed that it would go away with time. But contrary to my belief, it only intensified. I realised only later that it was a feeling of longing that first started within my chest, to the point where I thought I might puke my stomach’s contents before it averted it’s focus to my eyes.

"God, no," I said as Lucas showed me a picture of a man who had grown a red beard, perhaps trying to hide his double chin, from his iPad. He looked almost like a criminal with the burn on his left temple running down his cheek, and the piercing on his lower lip. His face is smug, with bored charcoal eyes and a crooked nose. Lucas and I have been lying on my bed, me in my white cotton robe and him still in his white shirt, sipping my third and his fourth whiskey. A stick of cigarette hung between his lips, the butt a glowing orange. Suddenly my room smelled like the back alley of a cheap bar but I didn't tell him to get rid of it because we were comfortable like this; like messed up people wi

After half a year, they only took the money and no longer replied. At that point, Thomas's phone rang. He hurried off to clock out. I took one last look at Lisa's file, then stood up and went home. In the shower, I pulled off my scarf and exposed the vicious, ugly scar on my neck. Samantha had caused it. Ten years ago, in the spring, I couldn't reach her—and Zane had vanished too. Gritting my teeth, I used the last of my money to buy a cheap plane ticket and went to look for her.

I tell her, remembering I am now her new tutor. "Okay," she sighs. "What would you like to read?" I ask, and as if I made her day again, she smiles brilliantly and answers: "Ovid's Metamorphosis!" I can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. "Why that book?" I am intrigued a little girl would be so excited to read a book meant for college students. I should know. I had to read the book as part of my mythology elective. "Because of the gods and goddesses!" She simply answers.

My hand is folded forward to my face and I lean my jaw on my folded fist, still looking out the tinted glass window. Waiting for the right time has never done me good. Like I did with that stranger at the club. I waited for him to show up. He never did. The same way with Cain. I have waited all my life for him to change. He hasn't. I won't wait one more second to have a kick start in the first fire I felt after a long time. A very long few months filled with abstinence. A husky chuckle leaves my lips. My God, those few months drove me mad. It's one of the reasons I want to see where this new spark leads me. I definitely am in for anything intimate.

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“Then why does your face look like that when you look at him?” Elara sighed. Not the dramatic kind. The tired, deep kind — the kind people sigh when they’re about to open a door they’ve kept locked for their personal reasons. She walked over to the tall shelf near the window and ran her fingers along the spines of dusty books before pulling one out. “I guess,” she said, turning back to me, “we’ll have to start from the basics.” She handed me the book. The cover was old, the edges worn. Gold lettering barely visible.

It longed for the bond that would bind them together, the union that would transcend their tumultuous past. Caught between the echoes of suspicion and the radiant allure of a love she had always yearned for, Amelia found herself at a crossroads. Her heart yearned for answers, for the truth to be laid bare before her. But in the depths of her soul, she couldn't deny the unspoken longing, the yearning for a connection that promised solace and completeness.

She would never say something so selfish either. Nathan pulled Lily's legs off his waist and headed to Willow's bedroom. The room was full of ash. It hadn't been cleaned up yet since the fire. The prayer journal in the box had been previously soaked through, so that had kept it from burning in the fire. It sat at the bottom of the box, and the handwriting in it was neat and careful, every word written with care. "Nathan, I wrote these prayers for you. Please, don't spend the rest of your life blaming yourself for my mother's death," Willow had said when she showed it to him.