- 3 months ago
Step into a world of passion, power, and drama. On this channel, you’ll find captivating billionaire romances, intense mafia sagas, and heartfelt love stories that will keep you hooked until the very last word.
Whether it’s the allure of wealth, the danger of the underworld, or the beauty of love against all odds — Ashley’s Stories brings you tales that are bold, emotional, and unforgettable.
💖 Subscribe now and lose yourself in stories of desire, danger, and destiny.
Whether it’s the allure of wealth, the danger of the underworld, or the beauty of love against all odds — Ashley’s Stories brings you tales that are bold, emotional, and unforgettable.
💖 Subscribe now and lose yourself in stories of desire, danger, and destiny.
Category
😹
FunTranscript
00:00I never expected a simple walk home to shatter my carefully constructed world.
00:04That evening, as rain slicked the New York streets,
00:07a cab hydroplane straight toward me at the crosswalk.
00:11Time slowed.
00:12My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird.
00:15Then strong arms yanked me back,
00:17pulling me against a solid chest just as the vehicle screeched past,
00:21missing me by inches.
00:22My breath caught, not from the near miss,
00:25but from the steady grip holding me upright,
00:28grounding me against the chaos.
00:30Are you okay?
00:32His voice was low, calm,
00:33but carried an edge like he was used to being answered.
00:36I turned, meeting slate-gray eyes under dark brows,
00:40his face half-shadowed by the streetlight.
00:43He was older, maybe mid-thirties,
00:45in a tailored coat that screamed money,
00:47his jaw tight with something like concern.
00:49I nodded, too rattled to speak and stepped back,
00:53my sneakers squeaking on the wet pavement.
00:55I'm fine, I managed,
00:57though my hands shook as I adjusted my scarf.
01:01He didn't let go immediately,
01:03his grip lingering on my arm, assessing me.
01:06You don't look fine.
01:07Where are you headed?
01:08I bristled at the question,
01:10my independence flaring despite the adrenaline.
01:12I'd spent years building walls around myself.
01:16Ever since I left my small upstate town
01:18where everyone knew my family's tragedy,
01:21my parents' car accident when I was sixteen,
01:24the whispers that followed about how I'd never marry,
01:27never trust anyone enough to let them in.
01:29I'd made a vow to myself then.
01:31No one would ever hold power over me,
01:33not my heart,
01:34not my life.
01:36That vow had carried me to this city,
01:38to a quiet job as a library archivist,
01:40to a life of routine and solitude.
01:44I'm okay, I repeated,
01:46firmer,
01:47pulling away,
01:48just heading home.
01:50He raised an eyebrow,
01:51unconvinced,
01:52but didn't push.
01:53Instead, he gestured to the sleek black car idling nearby.
01:57Let me drive you.
01:58It's pouring and you're shaken.
02:00I hesitated.
02:01Strangers in New York didn't offer rides
02:03unless they wanted something.
02:04But the rain was relentless,
02:06and my apartment was ten blocks away.
02:09Against my better judgment, I nodded.
02:11Just this once.
02:13His name was Elias Kane,
02:15he told me as we slid into the car's leather interior.
02:18He owned Kane Enterprises,
02:20a name I vaguely recognized from business headlines,
02:23something about real estate and tech mergers.
02:26He didn't elaborate and I didn't ask.
02:29The silence between us wasn't uncomfortable,
02:31but it was heavy,
02:33like we were both measuring each other.
02:35His driver navigated the city with ease,
02:38and I stole glances at Elias,
02:40noting the way his fingers tapped restlessly on his knee,
02:43the faint scar above his left brow,
02:45the way he seemed to fill the space without trying.
02:48Why'd you stop?
02:49I asked finally, breaking the quiet.
02:52You could have kept walking.
02:53He looked at me,
02:55his expression unreadable.
02:57I don't walk away from trouble.
02:59The words landed like a challenge,
03:02though I couldn't tell if it was aimed at me or himself.
03:05When we reached my building,
03:07a modest walk-up in a less glamorous part of the city,
03:10I expected him to drop me off and disappear,
03:13but he stepped out,
03:14holding an umbrella over me as we crossed the sidewalk.
03:17At my door,
03:18he handed me a business card,
03:19plain white with his name,
03:20and a number in sharp black font.
03:23If you need anything,
03:24he said,
03:25call.
03:27I took it.
03:27Skeptical.
03:28I won't.
03:29His mouth twitched,
03:30not quite a smile.
03:32We'll see.
03:33The next morning,
03:34I found an email from my boss.
03:36The library's rare books collection was being digitized,
03:39funded by a private donor who wanted a hands-on role.
03:42I was to meet him at the Kane Enterprises office uptown.
03:46My stomach sank as I read the donor's name.
03:49Elias Kane.
03:50I arrived at his glass-walled penthouse office,
03:53my nerves fraying.
03:55The space was all sharp lines and polished surfaces,
03:58a stark contrast to my world of dusty manuscripts and quiet stacks.
04:02Elias stood behind a desk,
04:04his presence as commanding as it had been on the street.
04:06He didn't mention the night before,
04:08but his eyes lingered on me longer than necessary.
04:12You're the archivist,
04:13he said,
04:14not a question.
04:15Clara Weston.
04:16I nodded,
04:17clutching my notebook like a shield.
04:19And you're the donor,
04:20why?
04:21I collect rare things,
04:23he said simply.
04:24Books,
04:24art,
04:25history.
04:25I want them preserved,
04:27not locked away.
04:29His answer was too smooth,
04:30like he'd rehearsed it.
04:31I didn't trust it,
04:32or him.
04:33Men like Elias Kane didn't fund projects like mine out of pure altruism.
04:38There was always an angle.
04:39Still,
04:39the library needed the money,
04:41and I needed my job.
04:42I agreed to work with him,
04:44though every instinct screamed to keep my distance.
04:48Over the next week,
04:49we met daily to discuss the project.
04:52His knowledge of rare texts surprised me.
04:54He wasn't just a suit with a checkbook.
04:56He spoke of first editions and ancient manuscripts
04:59with a reverence that felt personal,
05:01almost vulnerable.
05:03But he was guarded too,
05:04deflecting questions about himself with sharp precision.
05:07I sensed a wound there,
05:09something he didn't want me to see.
05:11My own walls stayed up.
05:13Growing up,
05:13I'd been the preacher's daughter in a town
05:15that expected me to be perfect,
05:17pure,
05:18untouchable.
05:20After my parents died,
05:21I leaned into that role.
05:23Not out of faith,
05:24but survival.
05:25It was easier to stay untouched
05:26than to risk the pain of loss again.
05:28Men had tried to get close,
05:30dates,
05:30awkward kisses,
05:31but I always pulled back,
05:33my vow a quiet armor.
05:35Elias, though,
05:36didn't push.
05:37He watched,
05:38listened,
05:39and somehow that was worse.
05:41His attention felt like a spotlight
05:43on my carefully hidden self.
05:45One evening,
05:47as we poured over a 17th century manuscript
05:49in his office,
05:51a storm rolled in,
05:53rattling the windows.
05:54The power flickered,
05:56and the city's hum faded,
05:57leaving us in near darkness.
05:59He lit a desk lamp,
06:01its glow casting shadows across his face.
06:04You don't trust me,
06:05he said abruptly,
06:07not looking up from the page.
06:09I stiffened.
06:10I don't know you.
06:12You could,
06:13he said,
06:14his voice quieter now,
06:15almost raw.
06:16If you wanted to.
06:18The words hung between us,
06:20heavy with possibility.
06:22I wanted to dismiss them,
06:23to retreat to my safe,
06:24solitary life.
06:25But the library project
06:27meant working with him for months,
06:29maybe longer.
06:29There was no escaping his world now.
06:33Not his office,
06:34his questions,
06:35or the way his presence
06:36made my carefully guarded heart stutter.
06:39I stayed because I had to.
06:41The project was my responsibility,
06:43and I wouldn't let my fear of him,
06:45or of myself,
06:46derail it.
06:47But as I left his office that night,
06:49his card still tucked in my pocket.
06:52I knew something had shifted.
06:54Elias Kane wasn't just a donor
06:56or a stranger who'd saved me from a cab.
06:58He was a question I wasn't sure I could answer,
07:01and for the first time in years,
07:02I wasn't sure I wanted to run from it.
07:08The weeks following that stormy night
07:10in Elias Kane's office
07:11pulled me deeper into his orbit,
07:13a gravitational force I couldn't escape.
07:15We worked side by side
07:16on the library's digitization project,
07:19cataloging brittle manuscripts
07:20in his sleek uptown office
07:22or the library's dusty basement.
07:24Proximity bred familiarity,
07:26but not ease.
07:26Every glance,
07:28every brush of his hand
07:29as we passed a book
07:30felt like a spark against kindling.
07:33I kept my walls up,
07:34my vow to stay untouched,
07:36a silent mantra.
07:37But Elias had a way of seeing through me,
07:40his gray eyes cutting past my defenses
07:42without effort.
07:44I learned his rhythms.
07:46He arrived each morning with coffee,
07:48black for him,
07:49cream and sugar for me,
07:51set wordlessly on my desk.
07:52He never asked how I took it.
07:55He just knew.
07:56His precision unnerved me.
07:58Like he was cataloging me
08:00the way we cataloged the books.
08:02But there were moments
08:03when his control slipped.
08:04When he'd pause mid-sentence,
08:07staring at a page
08:08as if it held a memory
08:09he couldn't shake.
08:10I wanted to ask,
08:11but my own guardedness stopped me.
08:13I'd spent years keeping people out.
08:15I wasn't about to let them in.
08:17Still, I noticed things.
08:19The way his jaw tightened
08:20when his assistant mentioned
08:21a family estate in Maine.
08:23The way he deflected personal questions
08:26with a sharp wit
08:26that felt more like armor than charm.
08:29Once, as we sorted through
08:31a crate of 18th-century letters,
08:33I caught him reading one.
08:34A lover's plea,
08:36faded ink on yellowed paper.
08:38His fingers lingered on the words,
08:40and for a moment,
08:41his face softened,
08:43raw with something like grief.
08:45I looked away,
08:46my chest tight.
08:47I didn't want to see his pain.
08:49It made him too human.
08:50My own past stayed locked away.
08:52The library was my sanctuary,
08:55its quiet stacks a refuge
08:56from the small-town whispers
08:57that had followed me
08:58after my parents' accident.
09:00I'd been 16,
09:02suddenly alone,
09:03with a community that pitied me,
09:05but expected me to embody
09:06their ideal of purity.
09:08I'd leaned into it,
09:09not for them,
09:10but for myself.
09:11A vow to never let anyone
09:13close enough to break me again.
09:14New York was supposed to be
09:16my fresh start,
09:18but Elias's presence
09:19was a crack in that plan,
09:20his quiet intensity
09:22stirring something
09:22I'd buried deep.
09:24One afternoon,
09:25as we worked late
09:26in the library's basement,
09:28the air thick with dust
09:29and the hum of fluorescent lights,
09:31he broke our usual silence.
09:33Why do you do this?
09:34he asked,
09:35gesturing to the stacks.
09:36You could be anywhere,
09:37doing anything.
09:39Why hide here?
09:40I bristled,
09:41my fingers tightening
09:42on a leather-bound volume.
09:44I'm not hiding.
09:45I'm preserving.
09:46He leaned against the table,
09:47his gaze steady.
09:49Preserving's a choice.
09:50So's hiding.
09:51The words stung
09:52because they were true.
09:53I wanted to snap back,
09:55but instead,
09:56I met his eyes.
09:57What about you?
09:59Why fund this?
10:00You don't strike me
10:00as the altruistic type.
10:02He didn't flinch,
10:03but his mouth tightened.
10:04Maybe I'm preserving
10:05something, too.
10:07I waited,
10:08expecting more,
10:10but he turned back
10:10to the manuscript,
10:12closing the door
10:12on whatever
10:13he'd almost revealed.
10:15That was Elias,
10:16always a step ahead,
10:17always holding back.
10:19It frustrated me,
10:20but it also drew me in.
10:21He wasn't like
10:22the men I'd known,
10:23the ones who pushed
10:24or charmed
10:25or assumed
10:25they could claim me.
10:27Elias didn't assume.
10:28He watched,
10:29waited,
10:30and somehow
10:30that was more dangerous.
10:33The midpoint came
10:34on a night
10:34when a nor'easter
10:35swept through the city,
10:36trapping us
10:37in his office.
10:38The power went out again,
10:40leaving us
10:40with only
10:41a battery-powered lamp
10:42and the howl of wind
10:43against the windows.
10:45We sat on the floor,
10:47surrounded by open books,
10:48the storm a cocoon
10:49around us.
10:50I don't know why
10:51I spoke.
10:52Maybe the dark
10:53loosened something in me,
10:55but I told him
10:55about my parents.
10:57Not the accident,
10:58but the small things.
10:59My mother's laugh,
11:01my father's habit
11:02of reading poetry
11:03aloud at breakfast.
11:04I hadn't spoken
11:05of them in years,
11:06and the words felt
11:08like they were bleeding
11:08out of me.
11:10He listened,
11:11his face half-lit,
11:13his hands still.
11:15When I stopped,
11:16embarrassed,
11:17he didn't offer platitudes.
11:18Instead, he said,
11:20My sister used to read
11:21poetry, too.
11:22She'd recite Frost
11:23in this dramatic voice,
11:24like she was on stage.
11:26His voice caught,
11:28barely,
11:29but I heard it.
11:30She died five years ago,
11:31cancer.
11:32I froze,
11:33the air between us
11:33suddenly fragile.
11:35I'm sorry,
11:36I said,
11:37hating how inadequate
11:37it sounded.
11:39He shook his head,
11:40dismissing it.
11:41She'd have liked you.
11:42You've got her stubbornness.
11:44The comment landed
11:45like a stone in still water,
11:47rippling through me.
11:48I wanted to ask more,
11:49to know her name,
11:50her story,
11:50but his expression
11:51warned me off.
11:53Instead,
11:54I reached for a book,
11:55my fingers brushing
11:56his by accident.
11:58Neither of us
11:58pulled away.
11:59The touch wasn't much,
12:01just knuckles,
12:01grazing knuckles,
12:02but it felt like
12:03a current,
12:04sharp and warm.
12:06I looked at him,
12:08and for the first time
12:09I saw something
12:10unguarded in his eyes,
12:12a need that mirrored my own.
12:14We didn't speak of it after,
12:16but the moment
12:17changed things.
12:19Our meetings grew quieter,
12:20heavier.
12:21I caught myself
12:21watching him.
12:23How his hands
12:24moved with precision.
12:25How his rare smiles
12:26softened his edges.
12:28He started asking me questions,
12:30not about work,
12:31but about me,
12:32my favorite book,
12:33why I loved old things,
12:35what I dreamed of
12:36as a kid.
12:37I answered cautiously,
12:39each word a step closer
12:41to a line I'd sworn
12:42never to cross.
12:43Then came the night
12:44that broke us open.
12:46We'd stayed late again,
12:48finalizing a grant proposal.
12:49I was exhausted,
12:51my guard fraying,
12:52when he asked
12:52out of nowhere,
12:53Why don't you let anyone in,
12:55Clara?
12:56I froze,
12:57my pen still.
12:58I could ask you
12:59the same thing.
13:00He leaned back,
13:01his chair creaking.
13:03You first.
13:04I wanted to deflect,
13:05but his gaze held me.
13:07Because it's safer,
13:08I said finally.
13:09People leave.
13:11They die,
13:11or they disappoint you.
13:12I don't want to hurt
13:13like that again.
13:15He didn't respond
13:16right away,
13:17just watched me,
13:18his face unreadable.
13:19Then he stood,
13:21crossing to the window,
13:21his back to me.
13:23I loved someone once,
13:25he said,
13:25his voice low.
13:27She betrayed me,
13:28used me to climb
13:29her way up,
13:29then left.
13:30I swore I'd never let
13:31anyone that close again.
13:33The confession hung there,
13:35raw and jagged.
13:36I wanted to reach for him,
13:38to say something,
13:39but my own fear
13:40held me back.
13:41Instead,
13:42I stood grabbing my coat.
13:43I should go.
13:44He turned,
13:45his eyes sharp.
13:46Don't.
13:47It wasn't a command,
13:48but a plea.
13:49Our gazes locked,
13:50and for a moment,
13:52I thought he'd close
13:53the distance,
13:54pull me to him,
13:55kiss me.
13:56I wanted it.
13:58God,
13:58I wanted it,
13:58but I was terrified.
14:00My vow,
14:01my walls,
14:01my past,
14:02they all screamed
14:02at me to run.
14:03So I did,
14:04muttering an excuse
14:05about the late hour,
14:07leaving him standing there,
14:08the space between us
14:09aching with what
14:10we hadn't said.
14:12As I walked home,
14:14rain soaking
14:14through my coat,
14:15I realized I wasn't
14:16just running from him.
14:18I was running
14:19from myself,
14:19from the truth
14:21that I felt something
14:22for Elias Cain.
14:23Something real.
14:25Something that could
14:26break me if I let it.
14:28And for the first time,
14:29I wasn't sure
14:30I could keep it locked away.
14:31The days after I fled
14:35Elias's office
14:36were a haze
14:37of self-imposed exile.
14:39I buried myself
14:39in the library's stacks,
14:41sorting manuscripts
14:42with a fervor
14:43that bordered on obsession,
14:45trying to drown out
14:45the echo of his plea.
14:47Don't.
14:49My vow to stay untouched,
14:51forged in the ashes
14:51of my parents' death,
14:53had been my shield
14:54for a decade.
14:55It wasn't just about
14:56physical purity.
14:57It was about
14:58guarding my heart,
14:59keeping it safe
15:00from the kind of loss
15:01that had shattered me
15:02at sixteen.
15:04But Elias had cracked
15:05that armor,
15:06his quiet intensity
15:07and rare glimpses
15:08of vulnerability
15:09exposing a truth
15:10I couldn't ignore.
15:11I missed him.
15:13Not the polished executive
15:14in his glass-walled empire,
15:17but the man
15:17who'd listened
15:18to my stories
15:18of my father's poetry,
15:20who'd shared the weight
15:21of his sister's death.
15:23Running from him
15:24hadn't freed me.
15:25It had only sharpened
15:26the ache of my solitude.
15:28A package arrived
15:30at my apartment
15:30one morning.
15:31A first-edition poetry book.
15:34Keats.
15:34The same volume
15:35my father used to read
15:36at our kitchen table
15:37in that small upstate town.
15:39Tucked inside
15:40was a note
15:40in Elias's precise handwriting.
15:43Preserve what's worth keeping.
15:45Eno demands.
15:46No grand gestures.
15:48Just a quiet tether
15:48to the moment
15:49we'd shared in his office,
15:51surrounded by storm
15:52and shadows.
15:53I clutched the book,
15:55my chest tight
15:56with the realization
15:56that I was tired of running.
15:58My independence
15:59had kept me safe.
16:00But it had also
16:01kept me alone,
16:02a ghost in my own life.
16:04That night,
16:04as the city's sirens
16:05wailed outside my window,
16:07I dialed his number,
16:09my hands trembling.
16:10We met at a small cafe
16:11near the library,
16:13a neutral space
16:14where the clink of cups
16:15and murmur of strangers
16:16felt safer than his penthouse
16:17or my cramped apartment.
16:19He was already there,
16:20his gray eyes
16:21tracking the door
16:22until they found me.
16:22He stood,
16:25pulling out a chair,
16:26but I stayed rooted,
16:27my fingers twisting
16:28the strap of my bag.
16:30Why the book?
16:31I asked,
16:32my voice steadier
16:33than I felt.
16:34Because you told me
16:35about your father,
16:37he said,
16:38his tone low,
16:39deliberate,
16:40because you shared
16:40something real,
16:41and I don't want
16:42to lose that,
16:43or you,
16:44before we've even begun.
16:46The words landed
16:47like a stone in my chest,
16:49heavy with possibility.
16:50I sat,
16:51the space between us charged.
16:53I'm scared, Elias,
16:55I admitted,
16:56the confession spilling out
16:57before I could stop it.
16:58I've spent years
16:59keeping people out,
17:00keeping myself safe.
17:02Letting you in.
17:03It feels like
17:04I'm losing control.
17:06He leaned forward,
17:08his hand stopping
17:09just short of mine,
17:10respecting the boundary
17:11I hadn't voiced.
17:13Then let me in slowly.
17:15Tell me why.
17:16I hesitated,
17:17my throat tight,
17:18but his gaze,
17:18steady and unguarded,
17:19pulled the truth from me.
17:21I told him about the accident,
17:23my parents' car
17:24skidding off an icy road,
17:26the call that came
17:26in the middle
17:27of a January night.
17:29I told him about the town
17:30that watched me grieve,
17:31their pity laced
17:32with expectations
17:33that I'd remain
17:34their perfect preacher's daughter,
17:36untouched and pure.
17:38My vow wasn't just
17:39about virginity,
17:40it was a wall against pain,
17:43a promise to never let
17:44anyone close enough
17:44to break me again.
17:46The words poured out,
17:47raw and jagged,
17:48and when I finished,
17:49tears stung my eyes.
17:52He took my hand then,
17:53his touch warm,
17:55anchoring.
17:56I understand,
17:57he said,
17:58his voice rough
17:59with something unspoken.
18:01More than you know,
18:02before he could say more,
18:03his phone buzzed.
18:05His assistant's name
18:06flashed on the screen,
18:07followed by a clipped message
18:08about a crisis
18:09at Kane Enterprises.
18:11Leaked documents,
18:13a merger unraveling,
18:14whispers of sabotage
18:16tied to his ex,
18:17the woman who'd betrayed him
18:18years ago,
18:19using his trust
18:20to climb her own ladder.
18:22His face hardened,
18:23the vulnerability
18:24I'd glimpsed vanishing
18:25behind a mask of control.
18:27I have to go,
18:28he said,
18:29standing.
18:30This could ruin everything.
18:31Everything.
18:32I pressed,
18:33fear coiling in my gut.
18:35Your company or us?
18:37He paused,
18:37his eyes locking onto mine.
18:39Both,
18:40if I don't handle it.
18:41He left without another word,
18:43the cafe door swinging shut
18:45like a wall between us.
18:47The next two days
18:48were a blur of headlines.
18:50Kane Enterprises
18:50faces insider trading allegations.
18:53The news painted Elias
18:55as a ruthless tycoon,
18:56but I saw the truth
18:57in the fragments he'd shared.
18:59His sister's death,
19:00his ex's betrayal,
19:02the empire he'd built
19:03to bury his pain.
19:05He feared intimacy
19:06as much as I did,
19:07not because he didn't want it,
19:09but because it meant
19:10exposing the wounds
19:11he'd spent years hiding.
19:12I wanted to reach him,
19:14but my own fear
19:15held me back,
19:17the vow that had kept me safe
19:18now a chain pulling me under.
19:21On the third day,
19:22a call came from his assistant.
19:25Elias had collapsed
19:25during a board meeting,
19:27felled by exhaustion
19:28and what the doctors called
19:30acute emotional strain.
19:32He was in a private clinic uptown,
19:35refusing visitors,
19:36alone in his sterile fortress.
19:38My heart clenched.
19:39He was facing his crisis
19:41the way I'd faced mine.
19:42Isolated.
19:43Untouchable.
19:45I couldn't let that stand.
19:47Grabbing my coat
19:47and the poetry book,
19:48I took a cab to the clinic,
19:50navigating its polished halls
19:51until I reached his room.
19:54He lay pale
19:55against the white sheets,
19:56a feline snaking his arm,
19:58his face etched with fatigue.
20:00His eyes opened as I entered,
20:02surprise flickering across them.
20:04Clara,
20:05you shouldn't be here.
20:06I am,
20:07I said,
20:08pulling a chair close.
20:09Because you don't have
20:10to do this alone.
20:11He turned away,
20:13his jaw tight.
20:14I always have.
20:16My sister.
20:17She fought cancer
20:17while I was too busy
20:18building this empire.
20:20I wasn't there
20:21when she needed me.
20:22And my ex,
20:23she saw that weakness,
20:24used it to gut me.
20:26I can't afford to need anyone.
20:28The confession broke something in me.
20:31I took his hand,
20:32feeling the tremor in his fingers.
20:34You're not weak, Elias,
20:35you're human.
20:36And I choose this,
20:37us,
20:38because you've shown me
20:39their strength
20:39in letting someone see you.
20:41His eyes met mine,
20:43raw with fear,
20:44and something softer,
20:46something like hope.
20:48I'm a virgin,
20:49I whispered.
20:50The word's a release,
20:51not a confession.
20:53It's not just about my body,
20:54it's about my heart.
20:56I've waited because
20:56I needed to trust first.
20:58And I trust you.
21:00His gaze softened.
21:02No shock,
21:03no pressure,
21:04just a quiet acceptance
21:05that felt like home.
21:07He pulled me gently
21:08onto the edge of the bed,
21:10his arms encircling me,
21:11careful, reverent.
21:14Then let me show you
21:15there's nothing to fear,
21:16he murmured,
21:17his voice a vow of its own.
21:20In that dim hospital room,
21:22with monitors humming softly,
21:24we built something new.
21:26His hands traced my arms,
21:28light as a whisper,
21:29each touch a promise of safety.
21:31We shared stories.
21:33His sister's love for Frost,
21:35my mother's laugh over Keats,
21:37our pasts weaving together
21:38without demand.
21:40When our lips met,
21:41it was slow,
21:43tender,
21:44a seal on the trust we'd earned.
21:46The intimacy wasn't in the physical,
21:48it was in the surrender,
21:49the way we held each other's truths
21:51without judgment,
21:52fading into a connection
21:53that needed no rush,
21:55no spectacle.
21:56The crisis resolved
21:58in the days that followed.
21:59His team traced the leak
22:00to his ex,
22:01clearing his name.
22:03The merger salvaged
22:04under his steady hand,
22:05but the true resolution
22:06was quieter.
22:07We left the hospital together,
22:09his arm around my waist
22:10as we stepped into
22:11the crisp autumn air,
22:13New York's skyline
22:14a testament to resilience.
22:15In his penthouse,
22:16we rebuilt,
22:18not as conqueror and conquest,
22:20but as partners,
22:21sharing space,
22:22stories,
22:23and silences.
22:24My vow transformed,
22:26no longer a barrier,
22:28but a foundation for love
22:29that didn't possess
22:30but freed.
22:32Love,
22:33I learned,
22:34was the courage
22:34to be seen,
22:36the strength
22:36to hold another's heart
22:37without breaking it.
22:39In Elias's arms,
22:40I found peace,
22:41not in losing myself,
22:42but in finally being found.
22:44I was like,
22:44I learned,
22:45and I thought it was
22:46a direct one.
22:47And...
22:47I learned,
22:48I learned,
22:49I learned,
22:49in oh,
22:50I was like,
22:50but..
22:52said,
22:53I learned,
22:53what did these tests
22:54could be learned
22:54within the Maintenant?
22:56I didn't mean that
22:57when they were not
22:58their big eyes,
22:58they believed
23:00they were not
23:00their chance
23:01and anything
23:02they meant
23:02that,
23:04to give you
23:06an idea
23:06to listen
23:07to the land.
23:10I learned,
23:12and yet
23:13I learned Ma ㅎㅎ
Be the first to comment