When Love Goes Silent Novels & Stories

They were alone in the room and the silence was killing Zeenas looking at Haya's miserable condition. The only thing which could be heard was the beeping sound. "Haya." She whispered but no answer. She didn't speak further as she hugged Haya crying hysterically. Longing hurts but sometimes it shows the true importance that a person has in your life Without zeenas knowledge Haya squeezed her eyes tightly but she wasn't able to open it, her body felt numb, she couldn't move a muscle but hardly she moved a finger. Love does not necessarily mean to be your spouses but it could be an important person who could mean the world to you, and that is called unconditional love for a best friend.

And definitely, it was not she expected at all, since she disliked the man since her high school days. "You must get used to it, Liv," anito. "I am one to give many compliments to my girl. And also, my love language is touch. So I think, you would have to find ways to adjust to that." Napatango siya. "Don't worry. I got it." "You do?" anito na nakalapit na sa kanya. Napatigil naman siya nang biglang hinawi nito ang buhok niya at inipit sa tenga niya.

The silent cry was heard Amid the night Without any word Peering on a moonlight I was ruined Though love was all I'd given I was pained My bliss was what they've taken Millions of lies Loud tears from my eyes Salted my wounds Fighting endless dooms I was put in a maze No way for me to escape The only thing in me was a dagger To break the wall before supper The route was always towards you Still coming to the room of blue I can't follow where my mind leads me to Because after all, I foolishly love you -Gabbie Sanchez 🔸🔸🔸

Perhaps just love at first sight. That evening, she took permission from her mum and went to the hill. From afar, she saw that he was already waiting for her. She hurried up to join him, "I am sorry I am late". "It's Ok", he replied. He was silent for a few minutes, possibly looking for some words to initiate a conversation. "You are beautiful!" He blurted out. "Thanks. A lot of people said that", she replied. He smiled, looked at her, "you are smart too". "How did you know?" She asked. "I just guessed". She looked deep into him and said, "You are a werewolf". He was shocked, "how did you even know that? Are you a witch?".

The man couldn’t name a feeling to save his life. He thought silence was strength. That withholding was noble. That letting me go without explanation was somehow a gift. But that wasn’t love. Love is messy. Loud. Risky. Love shows up. And he didn’t. Even after I called him. Even after I begged him, without using the word, to just say something real. He stayed quiet. Or worse — careful. I’d lived too long being loved carefully. I turned away from the window. Walked slowly back to the table.

The heavy need and hunger between us vanished, replaced with something colder, heavier. We stayed like that until my sobs slowed down. Until silence filled the room like a thick blanket. Finally, hand in hand, fingers locked together as though letting go would mean falling apart, we walked to his bedroom. Not as lovers this time, but as two broken souls clinging to each other. We showered together quietly. There was no playfulness, only soft touches as we took turns bathing each other. I washed the tension off his back. He washed the tears off my face.

And as she lay in the dark, the phone glowing in her hands, she whispered into the quiet: “I love you, Daniel.” But she didn’t send it. Because some loves don’t speak in words. They speak in silence. And hope.

But know that your silent leaving has been a puzzle I can't solve. Yours, always, Damian The tears came faster now, a steady, silent stream that soaked the paper. Her hand covered her mouth to stifle a sob. All this time, she had been protecting a lie. A lie she had told herself to survive. She had built a fortress to keep the pain out, only to find she had also trapped all her love and joy inside. Her silence hadn’t been an act of maturity or practicality; it had been an act of fear. Fear that if she gave voice to her feelings, she would have to admit just how much she had lost and just how much she had wanted.

Ten-year-old Rhett Grimfang glared at me. I was just about to turn and leave when the hem of my gown became stuck at the corner of the table, tearing it open with a loud rip. "You scheming she-wolf! That was the dress my mother loved most!" Rhett's eyes were red as he stared at me with hatred. "Rhett… you're lying. Sylvia loved gowns inlaid with moonstone crystals. How could she possibly have cherished this plain, old white dress?"

“If you don’t tell me the truth, no one will help you.” “I want to go home.” “Given“ “I want to go home.” Love sighed. “I am sorry. I believe you.” Given held her bag tightly. Love started the car and drove off. She kept glancing at Given as she drove, the silence in the car suffocating. Given sat still, staring out of the window, her hands trembling slightly. Love sighed and reached out to squeeze her hand gently.