The Space Between Us Book Novels & Stories

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

Natasha The space between us shifted in a way that was difficult to explain, not because anything physical had changed in a dramatic sense, but because something quieter had settled into place, something that altered the weight of every breath, every glance, every small movement that followed, and as I stood there beside Alan, close enough now to feel the faint warmth of him through the thin distance that remained, I realized that whatever this was, it was no longer just about the person in front of us. It was about what they had just set in motion.

I felt her smile against my chest. "Between Us." She whispered, she must really like that song. "Let’s open up and take our clothes off I don’t want nothing in between us" "Why'd you start there?" She whispered sleepily, I could feel her body get heavier with sleep. "Felt right," I whispered and she giggled. "Sure you pervert." A/n How are you guys finding the second book so far? Follow my Facebook page- Author Fulu & Ghassan

I placed my satchel on my lap. The book has taken over his world. It's how I see it. He is reading something about parallel universe, it’s what I can see from the rolled page. I lean closer so he could hear me perfectly. “Do you believe in a parallel universe?” He close the book that he’s been reading this whole time and create a distance between us. Well, maybe he is reminding me that we are not acquainted. I lean back from the table that’s separating us. I wryly smile while he is looking at me like I am an annoying creature that approaches random strangers. Oh well, it’s partially right, or absolutely.

And one day, someone will love you—not in spite of your fire, but because of it. Until then, keep going. Step by step. Light by light. Breath by breath. You're doing more than surviving now. You’re arriving. She closed the journal with a soft sigh. No tears tonight. Just exhale. Just clarity. Just peace. The next morning, Sophia woke to a knock at her door. A package sat on her doormat. No name. No return label. Inside: a book. The Art of Holding Space. No note. Just a pressed blue flower nestled between the first pages.

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.

Not a mistake. A change. The kind that alters the shape of everything that comes after. I let my forehead rest lightly against the door. We breathed together. Not touching. But connected. I didn’t open it. Not yet. But I didn’t step away either. The night did not feel empty. It felt full. The space between us felt alive. Something unspoken, shared in quiet, held there without force. Not hunger. Not fear. A stillness that could become heat. A closeness that could become anything.

“Wait, for real? You just saved our lives!” Bisola let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “God bless you. I was ready to sleep in the common room.” Charity laughed. “Please don’t. Come on in.” They stepped into the room — neat, bright, smelling faintly of new paint and vanilla air freshener. Charity had already claimed the bottom bunk, her side perfectly arranged, from a color-coded stack of books to a small framed quote on her desk. “Wow, this place looks nice,” Bisola said. “You’ve got taste.”

“I think I understand that better than I ever wanted to.” Their eyes locked across the space, and for a moment, words deserted them both. The crackle of the fire filled the void. He came closer, each step deliberate. When he finally reached her chair, he reached out not to touch her skin, but to lift the book from her lap. His fingers brushed hers in the process, a fleeting contact that sent sparks dancing along her nerves. He set the book aside on the table. “You shouldn’t hide here.” Her voice was a whisper. “And where should I be?”

“What is it with you?* “Nothing, I am fine.” “No, you are not, you look so terrified,” he said softly. “I can see it.” Tears burned my eyes. “Please leave.” “I can't, not in this state.” “Ethan for the last time, leave!!” He took a step back, like he finally understood he was crossing a line. “I didn’t come to hurt you.” “Well, you are,” I whispered. “Because I don’t have space for you right now. I barely have space to breathe.”