The Things We Cannot Say Novels & Stories

] Faced with irrational netizens, one young team member could not take it anymore and cursed, "You idiots! Can't any of you think for yourselves?" The next second, their account was banned by the platform. "I'm sorry, Pearl. It's all my fault for not controlling myself..." The young team member felt very guilty. "It's okay..." Pearl actually smiled at that moment. Having such a group of people who unconditionally supported her and fought alongside her for their shared goals was already comforting enough. As for the gossip back home, it seemed insignificant now. She said lightly, "It's fine. In Arcanum, no one knows me anyway. I'm still a doctor to them... It's just a pity that the team's pla

I answer quietly “It doesn’t connect.” Eryndor understands immediately “…So you can’t influence it.” I nod “No balance.” “No change.” My voice drops “No system.” The Truth Sets In For the first time We are facing something That cannot be reasoned with Cannot be guided Cannot be controlled The Other Me Speaks “…Then we contain it.” I shake my head immediately “You can’t contain something that isn’t part of anything.” Theodore mutters “Okay, so what’s the plan then?” That’s the problem There is no plan

Something that feels like a thread pulling between us—fragile, unspoken, undeniable. Something he’ll never admit out loud. Not today. Maybe not ever.

And revelation— Is irreversible. Once spoken— It cannot be taken back. And if there was even one truth between us we hadn’t fully confronted— Tomorrow would drag it into the light. Whether we were ready— Or not.

The room, once filled with the echoes of confession, now brimmed with the unspoken language of hearts finding solace in shared vulnerability. Yet, as the echoes of our mutual longing lingered, she with her lips parted and brows narrowed, articulated the stark reality that governed our intertwined destinies. "We can't do this," she asserted, her words a melancholic refrain. The room, with its shared secrets, seemed to constrict around us, echoing the weight of familial enmity.

I pushed my chair, my hands started tapping on my legs, waiting for Harrison to get out. "If that's what you want. But I'm not losing hope. I'll be back. And sooner or later you will talk." He stood inhaling deeply. "I hope you are using that big brain of yours." "And I am..." I raised my right hand for a salute. "Listen to me there...there's ten to me, there's only one thing you cannot see...hmm...every time you talk, millions of things...there's only one that you cannot see, every time you talk...you can, stop the clocks, forever...listen to what I say...stop the clocks forever, listen to what I say, stop the clocks for you and me...listen to me again...stop the clocks, forever...hmm..."

"Is that what you want?" I looked away. "I do not know what I want. But I know what I cannot have. And I know what I cannot keep pretending is possible."

Red We don't talk about it. Not because we're pretending it didn't happen. That would require some kind of performance, and neither of us has the energy for that. No, this is different. This is two people who've been somewhere together, who've crossed a line that can't be uncrossed, standing in the morning kitchen and understanding without words that this space, this time between night and whatever comes next, has its own texture. A texture that requires something other than words.

In life, we all have this desires that we cannot get in this lifetime. It’s as if you’re going to despise everything you just have for that thing but the world still won’t give it to you. That’s what they knew and that’s what’s visible in everyone’s eyes. We tend to focus on the things that we couldn’t have and wasn’t able to see the situation underlying through it. Because the truth is, there are things in our lives that we don’t ask for but are willing to give. There are things that we did not even wait for but came spontaneously.

Like we’re part of something larger. Something we don’t fully see. I turn back. The projection hasn’t changed. But I know better now. “They’re not gone,” I say. “No,” Aidan replies. “They’re just… elsewhere.” “Yes.” I nod slowly. “Okay. Then I guess we keep watching.” “For now,” Ezra says. “Yeah. For now.” Because what else can we do. Fight something we can’t see. Stop something we can’t touch. Understand something that doesn’t follow any rules we know.