Written In My Own Heart's Blood Novels & Stories

Just ink moving across paper. I didn’t write a manifesto. I didn’t craft a speech. I wrote a letter. Quiet and personal. Not to the world. Not to the past. To myself. I wrote about the stillness. About the way the mornings felt now. About the long road I had taken just to get here, to this soft morning sun and this cup of coffee and this skin I could finally sit inside without bracing. I didn’t name every trial. I didn’t need to recount every fall. I simply wrote what was true.

Because for Livia— every word sounded like a lie forced into becoming the truth. And at that moment— without realizing it— her tears fell. One drop. Then another. She did not wipe them away. Did not try to hide them. Because she knew— there was nothing left to save. Livia opened her mouth. But her voice was barely audible. Broken. Fragile. As if every word that came out was a betrayal of herself. “I… y-yes…” her voice nearly disappeared, “I do.” Silence. For a moment. Yet it felt so long.

"It's a compliment, Élianor, it's a compliment, I'm not telling you this to please you, I'm not telling you this so you'll thank me, I'm telling you this because it's the truth, because I think it, because I see it, because I feel it, since I met you, since I loved you, since you left, since I searched, since I found, since I wait, since I hope, since I believe, since I love, you have a heart, Élianor, you have a heart, you have always had a heart, even when you pretended not to have one, even when you hid behind your mask of ice, even when you fled, even when you were afraid, even when you doubted, even when you hid, even when you forgot yourself, even when you forgot everything that matter

My heart—traitor that it was—skipped a beat. --- (Approx. 1,000 words)

The world darkened around me. But inside my heart, rage still burned. Quiet but alive. And I swore,I would rise again.

With all my love and appreciation, Your Author ✨

God, is this payback? My heart wasn't tired of the somersaults, but my mind was certainly tired of overworking. My body was getting weaker from the number of skips my heart was taking. I was getting dizzy as well, like I was developing high blood pressure. Just a few more minutes, I'd be free to find him anywhere he is and then ask him. I can't live with this. He might not know it, but I had a delicate heart. I wasn't being figurative, I was being literal. It was one of the reasons I steeled myself. If I'm stubborn and hard, I won't have much to worry about because my heart will be strong enough to take it. This was a rare occurrence.

I was drawn to your flame inspired by your fire you set my heart ablaze and I burned with desire I don't know how to tell you that I feel small and insignificant I fall victim to my insecurities and I see it troubles you that you can't seem to make me love myself even when you are trying your best deep inside I know your love encompasses all that iam from my toes up to my fingers to the tears in my eyes I wish to be wrapped in your warmth with no one else around to cherish you while you are still mine my men bought her she is still unconscious I seen her lips they were bruised I shouted on them "I told you just to bring her not to hurt her who the hell dared to touch her"

You should not be here. I lifted my chin a little higher. My arm ached with every heartbeat but I lowered my hand from the cuts. Dark blood showed on my sleeve in long streaks. I did not choose this place, I said. My words came out steady even though my heart pounded fast. Your wolves drove me here with their teeth and claws.

It crumbled beneath my boot. “I hate this,” I muttered to myself, feeling the sting of tears pricking my eyes. “It’s taking too long.” Pain surged in my chest, crippling and all-encompassing. It grew, spreading from my heart through my veins, like black tar seeping into my bloodstream. It dragged me down and set me alight; I felt everything, all at once, a burning of guilt and the ice cold of worry and the tingle in the back of my mind that I should be running, searching, doing so much more for her than I was. For her. For my Scarlett.