This Is Not A War Story Novels & Stories

My heart is beating very wildly as he is sitting very close to me now. "You go first!" I whispered. "Okay." "I sing so well. I play the guitar. I have never been in love." "Which one is the lie?" "you play the guitar." "Aww. You are wrong." "Ohh. So which one is the lie?" "I have never been in love." He said. "I have actually been in love. It ended in tears sha. Hot, premium tears." He added. I couldn't help but laugh. "Do you mind talking about it? I'm sorry for laughing though."

I replied to him. I knew very well that this war was a tricky one. It was a war that would win or lose, a war that both sides could lose, a war that would cost too much. This wasn’t a war for lands or people or expansion, this was a war of anger, a war of pressed down anger and I knew that it was going to be bloody, nothing was going to stop people, not even me. Not that I planned to. “Amira..” Jonathan whispered as he took a few steps towards me and I immediately two a few steps backwards.

This isn’t the end of a battle. It’s the start of a war.

The pain was excruciating. "Are you Corvian?" he asked. I looked at him and nodded. "There's a helicopter evacuating citizens back to Corvia tomorrow morning," he said. "Take your camera and be on it. This is a war zone. We don't need journalists trying to play hero on the front lines." I bit my lip, weak but stubborn. "I can't leave. I haven't found my boyfriend yet. If he's dead, I'm going to die right here with him—ouch!"

I stood alone for a moment longer, looking out at the harbor lights scattered across the dark water, thinking of Dante's voice, stripped of its usual armor, asking me for trust he had spent years teaching me not to give him. It struck me, standing there, how much of this war had never truly been about territory or money at all. It was about the stories families told themselves to justify the walls they built, generation after generation, until the walls became more important than anything they had ever been meant to protect. I thought of Isabella's insistence that honesty, however painful, was the only foundation strong enough to survive what Adriana intended to bring down upon all of us, an

“It’s not a depressing book about nuclear war, is it?” “Actually no!” he replied cheerfully. “It involves a third world war, but it’s fought exclusively with conventional weapons, rather than nuclear bombs.” “So regular blown-up bodies, not radioactive bodies,” I said dryly. “Much better.” “Trust me, you won’t be able to put this book down. It’s my comfort novel. I re-read it every year or two.” “Okay, I’m in,” I said. “I’m glad you chose that, because I’ve seen the Hunt for Red October movie, and I didn’t think it was great.”

This was my home for a long time, but I have nothing left here, no friends, no family, Everything swept away within the space of a couple Months. Let me start from the beginning. It is 2027 mid June. Our world has gone into crisis. Wars have been breaking out everywhere. Homes have been bombed, peoples lives lost. History, art, architecture, Everything that has been preserved and kept now lost in a cloud of smoke. This is World War III.

"The one-week rule was my idea, yes. But I never actually wanted a divorce. I just didn't want us to stay mad at each other for too long. That's bad for a marriage. And look—we've been apart for more than a week now, and I flew all the way here from the city to make things right. What more do you want from me? "My parents are coming back home soon. Can we just stop fighting? You know they've never really approved of you. If they find out you're divorcing me over something this small, they're going to judge you even more. And I'm stuck in the middle. It's miserable for me, Emily. Can you please think about me for once?"

And whatever we had just stepped into— It wasn’t a game. It was a war. And for the first time— I wasn’t sure who was going to win.

she murmured. It wasn’t a plea. It was a challenge. And I’d never been one to back down. I crushed my mouth to hers, every ounce of restraint I had left shattering between us. There’d be fallout. There’d be consequences. But in that moment, none of it mattered. Because this wasn’t a love story. It was a war. And she was the only thing worth bleeding for.