The Space Between Us A Novel Novels & Stories

RED POV The space between has its own fucking texture. I've been learning it for ten days straight. Ten days since the night I went to his room and the morning after when I sat on my bed telling myself to get my shit together and the evening he stood in my doorway saying my name like it was something sacred before walking away. Ten days of this space between—not pushing, not pulling back, neither of us naming what the fuck is happening between us or what it means to move through it together.

looking at a version of Nora that had died in a car crash in an alternate Chapter 1. ​"The Space Between is where the 'What-Ifs' live," the Co-Writer said, her voice sounding like dry leaves. "By refusing the Council's deal, you’ve trapped yourself in the one place where nothing can ever be 'Permanent.' Here, you are just a draft that never made the cut." ​"I’m not a draft," Nora projected, her thoughts appearing in bold, defiant letters. "I’m the woman who saved the Archive. I know they’re in Christina’s library. I just have to find the 'W' key."

The space between us was no longer just physical—it was everything. And I wasn’t sure how, or if, we could ever bridge the gap.

I awkwardly take it and we walked to the lift The lift closed and it's only the both of us "Uhm." "Hye-" We both say in unison "You first." He said "What's with us?" I asked straight to the point "Uhmm." Nico just looked at me and I looked away from his stare "There still a gap between us even I told you that we can start over." I said and he sighed "Since the start there's an attraction between you and me. It's like a magnet that pull us. Weird isn't? I never ever thought that you're Dakota, I mean you could be somebody else." He said nervously

Hermione got up slowly from her seat and headed for the stairs. In she was in Ruke’s room. She needed space to process the ghastly revelation, she was so tired. First, her mother had left and now she was going to lose her mate because of some stupid reincarnation bullshit. At that moment she knew that there was going to be another war, it was coming and she wasn’t going to waste the time she had with her mate brooding. She stood up and made for the door. Her hands were inches from the doorknob when it was opened from the outside and Ruke walked in, his hair wet. “I used Raphael’s bathroom, figured you needed space.

The author respects anyone, and if you are under the age of 18 and still proceeds on reading the story the author has no means of any, not one of taking responsibility if you are to encounter content with high risk. Thus, read at your own risk. In Between, a new novel of fataldestiny will now start.

I saw the sun. But something was wrong. Where are my wounds from yesterday? Or was it yesterday? It sent shivers to my spine as I searched for the echoes. But I could feel someone was watching me. Sure enough, I felt the tension gradually easing from my neck and some kind of liquid warmth filling my body as I saw the ocean. "Where am I? Where are the others? I need Brent right now," I whispered to myself. Memories from the past flooded my mind. The white color on the walls in this room was complemented by the black and white Moroccan rug on the floor. Between the two was a mix of warm and cool influences from the warm woods of the coffee table and wicker poufs juxtaposed with the cool blues

Caiden went directly to a shelf he knew, which confirmed the return visit, and came back with a book he handed to her without explanation. She looked at the cover. A collection of essays about cities — specifically about the spaces in cities that had no official purpose, the leftover places, alleys that went nowhere, courtyards that were technically public but felt private, stairwells in buildings that no one used because they were beside the elevator. "This is for me," she said. "I thought about you when I found it." He said it plainly, the way he said things he'd decided to stop managing. "The in-between spaces. The farmer's market photograph. The exhibition." He paused. "You have a thing

A ghost of a memory I haven't formed yet. I blink, and the feeling is gone. He’s Cole. My Cole. But as the helicopter turns toward the horizon, I realize that the space between wrong and right didn't just disappear. It’s inside me now. And I have no idea what it’s going to do next.

Just letting the flickering colors wash over the room, the buzz of voices blurring into the sound of James talking beside me. He was leaning back with one leg up on the armrest, sipping a beer. “So then she told me he ‘needed space,’” James said, air-quoting with the hand that wasn’t gripping the bottle. “Like, fuck off, Mia. You literally texted me every morning for a year straight. You think I don’t know what space means?” I took a drag off my cigarette and exhaled toward the ceiling. The smoke curled lazily above me, like it had nowhere better to be. “Space means they’re already fucking someone else,” I muttered.