You Began To Feel Like Home Novels & Stories

let me know when we get home. I let out an inaudible gasp. I had begun to see my prison as home.

For the first time in years, I feel it. I’m home.

But as I leaned my head back, closing my eyes while his thumb stroked the back of my hand, I realized something terrifying. It was starting to feel like home.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: THE HOME WE DON’T ANNOUNCE LENA Pov; Home used to feel like a noun to me. A place. An address. A door you closed behind you and hoped the lock held. Now it feels like a verb. Something you did quietly, repeatedly without needing to name it out loud. I noticed the shift the morning I woke up before my alarm and didn’t reach for my phone immediately. No impulse to check messages, no urge to calculate time zones. I lay there, listening to the city stretch awake, and let my breath fall into its own rhythm.

This felt like home and I felt like rushing in and collapsing into its warmth. So I did, letting the warmth bury me deeper than it had ever done.

The kind that only comes when every piece has returned to its place. They were home. And it felt like the beginning again.

Adrian admonished me. Instead of feeling bad at his reprimand, I had a warm fuzzy feeling of belonging somewhere. It was strange that even at the apartment I had considered my home; I didn't feel this safe and accepted. I had been in his house for only one day and I planned to leave as soon as my issues with the demons were solved. But I had already started thinking of this place as home… 'Home is not just made of bricks and mortar; it is the people you live with that make it a home,' I thought.

But this time—it didn’t feel cursed. It felt like home.

It felt like a home that was slowly, carefully, learning how to breathe. And for now… that was enough.

I cleared my throat and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "No, why would you think that?" "Yesterday, you hid behind a gazebo when you saw me, and I saw you sneaking back into your own home like a criminal today." The words 'own home' resonated with me and made me feel warm on the inside. This place was now my home for real, and I was welcome here, unlike how I felt in my parents' house. "A- A mosquito-butterfly? I was just trying to chase it away," I stammered, feeling like a fool. Something was definitely off with me.