Novels by Kela

The evening stretched out slowly, the kind of night where the city outside seemed to blur into the background, almost nonexistent. Inside the apartment, the air was warm, filled with the soft hum of the fridge and the quiet ticking of the clock. The lamps cast a gentle, golden light, wrapping everything in a kind of peaceful cocoon.Claire sat on the couch, her legs tucked under a blanket, watching Vladimir move around the kitchen. The sound of him stirring a pot, the quiet clink of utensils against plates, was a comfort—a rhythm that had settled into their days.She admired the way he worked. There was something about the way his hands moved, fluid and confident, like he was completely in his element.He hummed softly to himself, a tune that felt familiar but not quite, a quiet sound that added to the peaceful atmosphere. It wasn’t the kind of music that filled the room with volume; it was the kind that quietly existed in the background, like the feeling of being at home.After a whi

The morning light peeked through the curtains, soft and lazy, casting a warm glow across the apartment.The air still had a bite to it, a lingering chill that made the bed feel even more inviting. Claire and Vladimir lay just a few inches apart, neither of them moving, as if the calm of the morning had settled in them too. It wasn’t the tense quiet that used to fill the space, but something different—something easier, more at home.Vladimir was the first to stir, his hand reaching for the edge of the blanket. His fingers brushed against Claire’s, just enough to stir her from her thoughts. She blinked slowly, then turned her head to look at him. There was no rush today. He smiled at her, his voice still thick with sle

The apartment was quiet except for the distant hum of the city outside—cars rolling by, the occasional muffled voices of pedestrians, the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. The warm glow from the kitchen lights softened the space, casting shadows along the wooden floor. It felt… still, but not in a bad way. Just in the way nights sometimes do when there’s nothing left to do but exist at the moment.Claire walked towards the living room and when she arrived she sat down and curled up on the couch, she put the blanket that she got in their room with the cup of hot tea in her left hand. She then put it over her legs, and she then put her fingers wrapped around the warm mug of chamomile tea.The faint scent of honey and herbs mixed with the lingering aroma of the pasta they had made earlier.Across from her was Vladimir, where he sat in his usual spot, legs stretched out, slowly stirring his coffee even though it had long since dissolved.They weren’t talking to each other, but that

The quiet of their apartment felt heavier than ever as Claire sat in the living room, absentmindedly tracing the edges of a book on the coffee table.Vladimir had been distant, even though they had just shared a tender moment, kissing her as if it was the last time. There was an aching tenderness in the way his lips met hers, but the kiss ended too soon, leaving her feeling both cherished and forsaken.She had noticed the subtle changes in him—the way he sometimes pulled away after they made love, or how his touch lingered with an intensity that felt more like desperation than affection. It was as if he was trying to fill some void, some empty space within himself, but Claire couldn’t shake the feeling that she was just a stand-in.The absence of Grace, though not spoken of, seemed to cast an ever-present shadow in their relationship.Claire's thoughts swirled in her head. Is he really here with me, or am I just someone to distract him from the past?As she stared out of the window, wa

Days passed after their heart-to-heart talk, it felt like they had broken through a barrier, but a new weight began to settle on Claire’s chest. She keeps on overthinking about everything. Yes, she knew that Vladimir was always there. Always there when she needed help. He was always there, even with small things. He was being considerate of her. Extra considerate that she felt that it was so unnatural. It was unnatural that she felt that he was covering something up.Vladimir seemed more present, more mindful of their time together, but there was still something lingering in the air. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was—maybe it was the way he held her a little longer when they kissed, or how his touch seemed just a touch more urgent.The intimacy was there, but there is still something missing.But there was also a quietness to him now. So quiet that she just can't say the things she wants to say.He no longer spoke of Grace, and though his actions seemed more thoughtful, the distance be

The days that followed felt different—lighter, yet more intense. The air between Claire and Vladimir had shifted, and though they were still navigating the complexities of their new life together, there was a newfound peace between them. Their conversations grew deeper, more open, each layer of uncertainty peeling away with each passing day.Outside their condo’s floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights of Bonifacio Global City flickered against the night sky. The streets below were still alive with movement—cars gliding smoothly along the well-paved roads, a group of late-night joggers passing by, and the distant hum of a motorcycle engine cutting through the relative quiet.From their vantage point, Claire could see the neon signs of high-end restaurants and coffee shops, their warm glow reflecting off the glass buildings that towered around them.Inside, the ambiance was calmer. The modern elegance of their home—muted earth tones, sleek furniture, and soft ambient lighting—created