Antonia's fingers brushed against the man's scars with a mixture of curiosity and tenderness. Each scar told a story of its own, a narrative of battles waged and wounds endured. As her touch traversed the roadmap of his struggles, she couldn't help but feel a sense of connection, an unexpected bridge between their worlds.
The scars, once concealed beneath layers of cloth, were now laid bare for her to witness. They spoke of a life far more intricate than the polished exterior he presented to the world. The reality of his existence was etched into his skin, a testament to his resilience and determination.
Her initial intention to change his clothes had transformed into an intimate exploration of his history. The barriers that typically divided them – the mystique, the distance – had crumbled in the wake of her newfound understanding. He was more than just a man of allure; he was a man of depth, shaped by circumstances she could only begin to fathom.
A mixture
Victor's eyes blinked open as he roused from his restless slumber. Weariness clung to his body, a heavy blanket of fatigue that seemed to have become a constant companion. He sighed deeply, wondering how he would ever find his way through the labyrinthine challenges that surrounded him. The weight of his decisions bore down on him, leaving him feeling as if he were drowning in a sea of complications. Rolling out of bed, Victor stretched his stiff limbs before heading downstairs, his stomach rumbling with hunger. As he descended, the aroma of food reached him, drawing his attention to the kitchen where Antonia was busy preparing a meal. "What poison is this?" The words slipped from his lips before he could temper them, a mixture of weariness and sarcasm lacing his tone. He felt a pang of guilt at his words, recognizing that they weren't exactly the warmest greeting. Antonia looked up from her task, a hint of irritation flashing in her eyes at his less-than-friendly comment. She had h
I felt my breathing grow weaker and weaker, as if my chest was on the verge of giving up. The countless blows and kicks I endured earlier echoed in my ears, accompanied by the sickening sound of my bones cracking. I longed to open my eyes and catch a glimpse of the person standing before me, but my eyelids struggled to stay open amidst the steady flow of blood staining my face. Even my fingers refused to obey my commands, barely twitching in response. Pain and confusion mingled within me, as I questioned why I was chosen for this torment. What had I done to deserve such suffering, especially when I possessed so little? Tears welled up in my eyes, and I berated myself for my own vulnerability. Surely, this couldn't be the life I was meant to live. Perhaps there was more to my existence than this bleak moment. As the specter of death drew near, a bitter smile of regret played upon my lips. "So, this is the end," I thought grimly, accepting my imminent demise. With my vision growing haz
"Why, you..." In a fit of rage, the room became a chaotic scene as plates, mugs, and various other items were hurled and shattered into countless fragments. The intoxicated man unleashed his fury upon the young boy, shouting and acting violently. "You f*cking b*start, what the f*ck do you think you're doing?" "Victor, please listen to your father." The woman pleaded and cried as he tried to stop the man from hurting the boy. Her hair was a mess and her face was covered in tears. Her tears were like raindrops, almost making a puddle on the ground. Overwhelmed with frustration, Victor cried out and yelled, unable to contain his emotions any longer. "Mother, I've told you countless times, I don't have any money." Disregarding the woman's pleas, the man forcefully pushed her aside and seized the boy by the collar, delivering a brutal punch. "You piece of sh*t, do you think I'm messing around? Don't you dare lie to me?" Despite his drunken state, he struck Victor with such force that t
While the group of prospective heirs made their way to the cafeteria, some of them engaged in a discussion expressing their dissatisfaction with a previous encounter. "Sophia, what were you doing with the trash?" "She's right, I mean..." "Seriously, you shouldn't have stopped me from beating him up," the man who had intended to harm Victor exclaimed angrily. He continued to vent his frustration to everyone, expressing how annoyed he was for not being able to unleash his anger on Victor. The woman ignored their comments, showing no interest in their words. "That's enough," a man standing beside Sophia interjected, his gaze fixed on the girl who appeared unfazed by the situation. He then glanced at the others, signaling their future plans. In the meantime, Victor hurriedly made his way through the campus, oblivious to the presence of those around him. The recent incident had left his heart pounding, replaying the pleasant moment in his mind. How I wish I could always see that smil
"Who's there?" "You need not fret, for I am a friend." The voice spoke much clearer and sounded almost like a child. Victor became even more curious of the owner of the voice and asked. "Who are you?" "I'm the Watcher." "Watcher?" "How should I explain this? Well, I'm just like you. However, I have been around for a long time. I see everything in this world, I also have the ability to control someone's time in this world." The voice continues to explain everything to Victor. "Sometimes, I help those who are lost and help them find their way. Those who linger because they feel like they need more time, so I come to take them with me." Victor was speechless for a moment as he pondered on what the Watcher was saying. He soon realized this and replied in a depressing tone. "So you're saying I'm dead." "Yes, you are, and I'm sorry about that…" "So what's next?" Victor asked, as he now knows his time has come and since the Watcher is here, that means he must go with him as well. "We
On a dark and stormy day, people dressed in black gathered at the gravesite. Some had already paid their respects and were leaving, while others remained, waiting for the young man who stood silently before the grave. Amelia, Gramps, and Victor's son observed from a distance as Victor stood in the rain, his gaze fixed on his mother's tombstone. They worried about him, as he hadn't shown any emotion or uttered a word since the visit from the officers. "Should we go and check on him?" Amelia asked with concern. She had been visiting him every day, but he remained unresponsive, staring blankly out of the window during her visits. "Leave him be; he just needs some time," Gramps advised, recognizing the extent of the child's shattered state. To their astonishment, Victor suddenly dropped to his knees and wept uncontrollably. It was the first time in a long while that he had screamed, and the pain he expressed broke Amelia's heart. "Mother, I'm sorry for being so weak and unable to prot
Victor The letter was addressed to him and was written by his mother. He wondered when his mother wrote him a letter and why hadn't she just told him about the content of the letter. A lot of things were bothering him; more importantly the identity of the man earlier concerned him the most. He pulled out the letter inside and sat on the sofa as he read through the letter. Dear Victor, my dearest son. I've written this letter a thousand times and I thousand times how I wish I could just tell you everything. However, I didn't have the courage to tell you. If ever you do get to read this, it just means something happened to me and I was unable to tell you the truth. As the day passed by and you grew up into the man who I loved so dearly, not a day past, I worried that I couldn't give you the life you were supposed to have. What I'm about to say might be a great shock, but please be calm. I have loved you and protected you all this time from the truth, for I fear that once you know t
The hotel was beyond description, its grandeur rivaling the European castles seen in movies. Every corner exuded meticulous craftsmanship, and the ceiling painting alone was worth millions, resembling the priceless artworks showcased in museums. Victor stepped inside, awestruck by the breathtaking interior, oblivious to the curious stares cast his way. "Has the hotel lost its standards?" "Why would they allow someone like him inside?" "Perhaps he's here for a job application?" "Even cleaning the toilets here requires a college degree!" The discontent murmurs filled the air as guests began complaining to the staff. Yet, Victor, captivated by the surroundings, continued searching for the reception desk, heedless of the judgmental gazes. Before he could even take a step towards the reception, the guards intercepted him, halting him near the entrance. The realization of the stares finally dawned on Victor as he stood frozen, uncertain of what had attracted such attention. "Unless you'r