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Crying with rain 5 (EDITED)
"Harry and hazel"
We stood just inches apart, caught in a moment charged with unspoken desire. I could feel his warm breath on my lips as we gazed into each other's eyes. Lost in the depths of his piercing blue eyes, I saw a reflection of my own longing in them. We had never felt this way before, and it was both thrilling and heart-wrenching.
His fingers gently brushed against mine as he handed me a small ring, a token of his affection. "Keep this safe," he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Until I come back."
My heart ached as I replied, "I will keep this safer than I keep myself."
My name is Hazal, and my world revolved around the quiet countryside where I lived. Harry and I had been inseparable since birth, our houses standing as close to each other as we were. We transcended the boundaries of gender, oblivious to societal norms. Our days were spent in each other's company, playing, exploring, and laughing.
As we entered our teenage years, something shifted. Feelings we couldn't ignore began to bloom. We realized we were more than just friends; we were soulmates.
I turned 15, and Harry, 17. The realization of our love for each other consumed us, but the cruel hand of fate had other plans. Harry had to leave our idyllic countryside for the city to pursue higher education. We knew our days together were numbered.
As our desires burned with an intensity we couldn't deny, there came a night when the magnetic pull between us became irresistible. In the hush of that moonlit evening, we made the choice to explore the depths of our connection. As our bodies met, there was an initial discomfort, a stark reminder of our vulnerability. Yet, with each passing moment, that discomfort gave way to an overwhelming sense of shared passion.
The pain we initially felt transformed into a shared ecstasy, our bodies finding a rhythm that mirrored the harmony of our souls. The world outside ceased to exist as we became lost in each other. In the culmination of our desire, our lips met in a fervent kiss, and in that breathless moment, we knew we had crossed a threshold that would forever bind us.
As dawn's light began to filter through the curtains, we lay naked beside each other, our bodies and souls intertwined. It was a moment of profound vulnerability, a declaration of our love that transcended words and society's judgments. In that sacred space, we found solace and completeness, even as the world outside remained unaware of our secret union.
The day of our final goodbye arrived, and we danced together in the rain, barefoot, laughter mingling with the raindrops. We clung to each other, trying to ignore the impending separation. Harry promised he would return one day, maybe to take me with him. I believed him, even as the memory of my father's similar promise to my mother haunted my thoughts.
With each passing day, our love grew stronger, but the ache of Harry's absence became more profound. The letters we exchanged were filled with longing, yet I couldn't help but wonder if he would ever return. The letters poured our hearts into each word, but with each passing day, I yearned not for his words, but for his presence. The uncertainty hung over our love like a heavy cloud, casting shadows over our once-promising future.
"It's always an incomplete ending that starts with a beautiful beginning," I mused, tears filling my eyes.
Months turned into years, and the letters became less frequent. I couldn't help but wonder if he had truly meant what he said about coming back. The uncertainty gnawed at my heart, turning our love into a bittersweet memory.
And so, I found myself questioning whether our love story would remain forever incomplete, forever trapped in the embrace of a countryside that held our memories, or if destiny would grant us another chance, another chapter to write in the book of our lives. Only time held the answer, and I waited, my heart forever entangled with the memory of our stolen moments.
© mayorisan
We stood just inches apart, caught in a moment charged with unspoken desire. I could feel his warm breath on my lips as we gazed into each other's eyes. Lost in the depths of his piercing blue eyes, I saw a reflection of my own longing in them. We had never felt this way before, and it was both thrilling and heart-wrenching.
His fingers gently brushed against mine as he handed me a small ring, a token of his affection. "Keep this safe," he whispered, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Until I come back."
My heart ached as I replied, "I will keep this safer than I keep myself."
My name is Hazal, and my world revolved around the quiet countryside where I lived. Harry and I had been inseparable since birth, our houses standing as close to each other as we were. We transcended the boundaries of gender, oblivious to societal norms. Our days were spent in each other's company, playing, exploring, and laughing.
As we entered our teenage years, something shifted. Feelings we couldn't ignore began to bloom. We realized we were more than just friends; we were soulmates.
I turned 15, and Harry, 17. The realization of our love for each other consumed us, but the cruel hand of fate had other plans. Harry had to leave our idyllic countryside for the city to pursue higher education. We knew our days together were numbered.
As our desires burned with an intensity we couldn't deny, there came a night when the magnetic pull between us became irresistible. In the hush of that moonlit evening, we made the choice to explore the depths of our connection. As our bodies met, there was an initial discomfort, a stark reminder of our vulnerability. Yet, with each passing moment, that discomfort gave way to an overwhelming sense of shared passion.
The pain we initially felt transformed into a shared ecstasy, our bodies finding a rhythm that mirrored the harmony of our souls. The world outside ceased to exist as we became lost in each other. In the culmination of our desire, our lips met in a fervent kiss, and in that breathless moment, we knew we had crossed a threshold that would forever bind us.
As dawn's light began to filter through the curtains, we lay naked beside each other, our bodies and souls intertwined. It was a moment of profound vulnerability, a declaration of our love that transcended words and society's judgments. In that sacred space, we found solace and completeness, even as the world outside remained unaware of our secret union.
The day of our final goodbye arrived, and we danced together in the rain, barefoot, laughter mingling with the raindrops. We clung to each other, trying to ignore the impending separation. Harry promised he would return one day, maybe to take me with him. I believed him, even as the memory of my father's similar promise to my mother haunted my thoughts.
With each passing day, our love grew stronger, but the ache of Harry's absence became more profound. The letters we exchanged were filled with longing, yet I couldn't help but wonder if he would ever return. The letters poured our hearts into each word, but with each passing day, I yearned not for his words, but for his presence. The uncertainty hung over our love like a heavy cloud, casting shadows over our once-promising future.
"It's always an incomplete ending that starts with a beautiful beginning," I mused, tears filling my eyes.
Months turned into years, and the letters became less frequent. I couldn't help but wonder if he had truly meant what he said about coming back. The uncertainty gnawed at my heart, turning our love into a bittersweet memory.
And so, I found myself questioning whether our love story would remain forever incomplete, forever trapped in the embrace of a countryside that held our memories, or if destiny would grant us another chance, another chapter to write in the book of our lives. Only time held the answer, and I waited, my heart forever entangled with the memory of our stolen moments.
© mayorisan
