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A Crack in the Armor
Last Updated:
2025-01-20 23:33:02
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Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Never Ending Drama
How can my day end without drama? It’s practically my trademark. And I mean it! Sitting by the river, the darkness wrapped around us like a thick, cold blanket. I felt the peacefulness that only comes when the world goes quiet.The moon was doing its thing—glowing all ethereal and poetic, as if it had some exclusive VIP invitation to this very moment. And then, bam! It started raining. Not just a drizzle, mind you. It was a torrential, sky-is-falling, Noah’s-ark-level downpour.My jaw literally dropped. The audacity of the weather! I mean, I checked the forecast before coming, and there was not a single rain emoji in sight. Not a single one! Thanks for nothing, meteorologists. You had only one job.It’s not like I hate rain. On the contrary, I love it. I love the way it feels against my skin, the way it smells like fresh beginnings, the way it lets me live my main character fantasy for a hot second. But I didn’t have time to process any of that because suddenly, out of nowhere,
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The rain felt glorious. A perfect combination of wild freedom and cool bliss, making the chaos of my life momentarily slip away. I laughed with my arms wide open like a lunatic, twirling like the universe’s most dramatic ballerina in this impromptu rainstorm. Water streamed down my face, my hair sticking to my skin in messy, rebellious strands. For a fleeting second, I felt infinite.And then Mr. Wright looked at me—I mean, really looked at me. I noticed his gaze lingering on me a little longer than usual... not in a creepy way, though! At first, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. His gaze was normal. Stern but amused, like a teacher watching a kid playing with water, who’s way too immature. His eyes held that same calm, thoughtful demeanor he always carried — the type that could disarm a riot with a single glance. But then… his gaze lowered.From my face...To my neck…To my—OH SWEET HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THINGS…EMBARRASSING...TOO EMBARRASSING…I followed his line of si
Last Updated : 2025-01-27Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths I'm Wet
His coat lay forgotten on a stone by the riverbank. He reached for it, shook off the dust, and without a word, draped it over my shoulders. The heavy fabric swallowed my shoulders, covering every inch of me that I wished had never been seen.His hands lingered on the edges for a second too long, his knuckles brushing against my damp skin before he pulled away like he was electrocuted.I swore I could feel his warmth through the rain.The coat was warm and smelled faintly of him — he really smelled different, something unique and something impossibly comforting.I stared at him, my lips parting, my breath caught somewhere between embarrassment and gratitude.“Th-thank you,” I stammered, pulling the coat tighter around me.He didn’t say anything. His eyes softened as they met mine, steady and unreadable. Rain trickled down his temple, catching on his lashes. He looked heavenly!Then, with a slight, almost imperceptible smile, he murmured, “It’s nothing.”But it was.It was a shield. A k
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The car was moving steadily.I sneaked a glance at him. His hands gripped the steering wheel—firm, steady, capable. His jawline was sharp, his expression unreadable.What was he thinking? It couldn’t be about me, right?Alina, you idiot! He’s not thinking—he’s just driving!I looked away so fast I might’ve given myself whiplash.Stop it, Alina. Don’t be weird. You’re already wet and miserable — don’t add “creepy” to the list.We drove.And then, without warning, the car slowed.He pulled up in front of a brightly lit mall — with too many lights and too many people, all dry, clean, fancy and judgmental.“We’re here,” he said, like I’d asked to stop at an emotional torture chamber.He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me.“Do you want to come in, or…”Before I could find my voice, he added,“Actually, stay in the car. I’ll get it. No need to go out.”I didn’t argue.Didn’t nod.Just acted like a statue, clutching his coat tighter.As if I’d go into a mall right now.Looking like this
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The car stopped suddenly — he actually parked the car and stepped out into the darkness — to give me privacy — that was when I realized…I didn’t even know how to open the bag.I was doomed.I don’t know how to address these feelings! I sat there, in the car, like a pile of human embarrassment on top of existential dread. My entire body was frozen — a mixture of cold sweat and a warm blush I couldn't seem to shake. Mr. Wright stood outside, too cool, too composed. The typical him! His figure against the streetlights was like the calm before a storm, but which storm? Oh, that was my inner turmoil which was about to drown me.---I sighed, staring down at the bag in my hands, willing myself not to flip out. Just change, Alina. You’ve been through worse. You can handle this. It’ll be over soon!‘Never trust a man’s choice when it comes to clothing’—that was a universal truth! And I knew it. So, I hadn’t expected much either. Now, I just needed something—anything—to cover myself. That
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Mondays annoy me. I detest them so much that I could compile a full essay on why they should be outlawed, but nobody would read it because, guess what?Everyone else hates Mondays too. So, instead, we just wallow in the miserable fact that the weekend has officially ended and we’re back to being slaves to the system. Education system! And who better to remind me of this sad truth than the biggest authority figure in my life right now?Professor Cristiano Wright!I swear, the man was made to ruin mornings. I entered into class, late as usual, dragging my feet with all the enthusiasm of someone who’s just been told they’re going to spend the next hour reading Shakespeare in an ancient, dead language.I slide into my seat in the back corner of the room, trying to be as invisible as possible.I mean, who really wants to start the day with a lecture on some random 14th-century poet, right?Not me.I’m just here to survive, barely scrape by, and then go home to binge-watch anything that do
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They say writing essays makes you smarter. I say writing essays makes you question every life choice that brought you to this point, including why your English teacher thinks poetry analysis is the key to unlocking the universe. Like really?Last night, I sat hunched over my desk, glaring at my crumpled piece of notebook paper like it owed me money.My topic?A stupid plum blossom poem that apparently symbolizes life’s endurance. Or maybe death. Honestly, the whole thing could’ve been written by a pretentious fortune cookie, and I’d still have to write about it.“Why are you sighing like a dying walrus?” Mia asked, sprawled across my bed with her phone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other.“Because Professor Wright is out to get me,” I replied, scribbling dramatic question marks all over the blank paper. “I bet he reads my essays and laughs maniacally, like some evil poetry overlord.”Mia snorted. “You’re being dramatic. You know he’s just doing his job, right?”I turned to gla
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When someone tells you to “meet them in the library,” you believe it’s going to be a straightforward, uninteresting affair—like a group project that no one’s prepared for or a tutoring session where the tutor quits up halfway through. But when Mr. Wright is the one leaving you a cryptic note, the stakes suddenly feel higher.It’s fine. Totally fine. I’m just going to meet him, get another lecture about “unlocking my potential,” and walk out with more homework than any human brain can reasonably survive. That’s it. Definitely nothing weird or worth overthinking.So why, I ask myself for the hundredth time, am I sweating like I’m on trial for arson?The library feels suspiciously quiet when I push open the heavy wooden door. I’m immediately greeted by the smell of old paper and furniture polish—like someone tried to bottle “intellectual vibes” as a fragrance. Sunlight filters through the tall, arched windows, hitting the dust particles in a way that makes the whole place feel dramatic,
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Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths You Can Change Your Dress in the Car
The car stopped suddenly — he actually parked the car and stepped out into the darkness — to give me privacy — that was when I realized…I didn’t even know how to open the bag.I was doomed.I don’t know how to address these feelings! I sat there, in the car, like a pile of human embarrassment on top of existential dread. My entire body was frozen — a mixture of cold sweat and a warm blush I couldn't seem to shake. Mr. Wright stood outside, too cool, too composed. The typical him! His figure against the streetlights was like the calm before a storm, but which storm? Oh, that was my inner turmoil which was about to drown me.---I sighed, staring down at the bag in my hands, willing myself not to flip out. Just change, Alina. You’ve been through worse. You can handle this. It’ll be over soon!‘Never trust a man’s choice when it comes to clothing’—that was a universal truth! And I knew it. So, I hadn’t expected much either. Now, I just needed something—anything—to cover myself. That
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Little Girl? Excuse Me?!
The car was moving steadily.I sneaked a glance at him. His hands gripped the steering wheel—firm, steady, capable. His jawline was sharp, his expression unreadable.What was he thinking? It couldn’t be about me, right?Alina, you idiot! He’s not thinking—he’s just driving!I looked away so fast I might’ve given myself whiplash.Stop it, Alina. Don’t be weird. You’re already wet and miserable — don’t add “creepy” to the list.We drove.And then, without warning, the car slowed.He pulled up in front of a brightly lit mall — with too many lights and too many people, all dry, clean, fancy and judgmental.“We’re here,” he said, like I’d asked to stop at an emotional torture chamber.He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me.“Do you want to come in, or…”Before I could find my voice, he added,“Actually, stay in the car. I’ll get it. No need to go out.”I didn’t argue.Didn’t nod.Just acted like a statue, clutching his coat tighter.As if I’d go into a mall right now.Looking like this
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths I'm Wet
His coat lay forgotten on a stone by the riverbank. He reached for it, shook off the dust, and without a word, draped it over my shoulders. The heavy fabric swallowed my shoulders, covering every inch of me that I wished had never been seen.His hands lingered on the edges for a second too long, his knuckles brushing against my damp skin before he pulled away like he was electrocuted.I swore I could feel his warmth through the rain.The coat was warm and smelled faintly of him — he really smelled different, something unique and something impossibly comforting.I stared at him, my lips parting, my breath caught somewhere between embarrassment and gratitude.“Th-thank you,” I stammered, pulling the coat tighter around me.He didn’t say anything. His eyes softened as they met mine, steady and unreadable. Rain trickled down his temple, catching on his lashes. He looked heavenly!Then, with a slight, almost imperceptible smile, he murmured, “It’s nothing.”But it was.It was a shield. A k
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths The Endless Regret
The rain felt glorious. A perfect combination of wild freedom and cool bliss, making the chaos of my life momentarily slip away. I laughed with my arms wide open like a lunatic, twirling like the universe’s most dramatic ballerina in this impromptu rainstorm. Water streamed down my face, my hair sticking to my skin in messy, rebellious strands. For a fleeting second, I felt infinite.And then Mr. Wright looked at me—I mean, really looked at me. I noticed his gaze lingering on me a little longer than usual... not in a creepy way, though! At first, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. His gaze was normal. Stern but amused, like a teacher watching a kid playing with water, who’s way too immature. His eyes held that same calm, thoughtful demeanor he always carried — the type that could disarm a riot with a single glance. But then… his gaze lowered.From my face...To my neck…To my—OH SWEET HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THINGS…EMBARRASSING...TOO EMBARRASSING…I followed his line of si
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Never Ending Drama
How can my day end without drama? It’s practically my trademark. And I mean it! Sitting by the river, the darkness wrapped around us like a thick, cold blanket. I felt the peacefulness that only comes when the world goes quiet.The moon was doing its thing—glowing all ethereal and poetic, as if it had some exclusive VIP invitation to this very moment. And then, bam! It started raining. Not just a drizzle, mind you. It was a torrential, sky-is-falling, Noah’s-ark-level downpour.My jaw literally dropped. The audacity of the weather! I mean, I checked the forecast before coming, and there was not a single rain emoji in sight. Not a single one! Thanks for nothing, meteorologists. You had only one job.It’s not like I hate rain. On the contrary, I love it. I love the way it feels against my skin, the way it smells like fresh beginnings, the way it lets me live my main character fantasy for a hot second. But I didn’t have time to process any of that because suddenly, out of nowhere,
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths A Crack in the Armor
He led me to a quieter spot, away from the noise of splashing teenagers, lovely couples wrapped in each other like human pretzels and the too-happy laughter of families.The sand was cool, soft, and the river murmured in the background—a soothing rhythm that did nothing to calm the chaos in my heart.I sat down heavily, cross-legged, wrapping my arms around myself like I could physically hold all my feelings in.I tried. Believe me! I tried my best…Mr. Wright crouched beside me, his eyes steady and too focused, the kind of look that made you want to squirm because it felt like he could see right through you.“Why were you crying?” he asked again, his voice calm, low, like he had all the patience in the world.I sighed. “It’s nothing.”His brow lifted. Just one. It was enough to say, Really? You expect me to believe that?I picked up a handful of sand and let it sift through my fingers. “I’m serious. Nothing happened!”“Hmm.” He watched the last grains fall. “Nothing happened. Got it
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Mr. Wright’s POVThe sun dipped toward the horizon, casting the river in amber light. I watched her from where I sat on the bank, her silhouette a study in contradictions—lightness and weight, confidence and something… else. Something quieter.Alina moved through the water as if it had called her, her steps deliberate but unthinking, her gaze lost to the distance. She didn’t notice how the hem of her jeans clung to her ankles or how the current swirled playfully around her feet. There was a stillness to her that didn’t belong in someone like her—a girl of fire and sharp edges.And then I saw it.Tears.They slid down her cheeks, catching the waning sunlight. The sight rooted me in place for a breath too long before instinct pulled me forward.I rose without a second thought.“Alina.” Her name left my lips as a question, barely above a whisper.She didn’t turn. Didn’t speak.I moved to her side, careful not to crowd her. “Are you hurt?” I kept my voice low, steady. A touch of calm for
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The afternoon passed in a blur of easy conversation, laced with teasing that felt strangely... comfortable. Naturally, Ethan became the topic of conversation—because, of course, he was the one thing tying us together in this weird, twisted narrative.“I’m still baffled you voluntarily hang out with Ethan,” I said, sitting cross-legged on the sand. “Like, you choose that chaos. Are you okay?” Mr. Wright grinned, leaning back on his elbows. The sunlight bounced off his absurdly perfect hair, which—let’s be real—was so effortlessly tousled it had to be intentional. “Ethan’s not chaos. He’s...Ah…lively.”“Lively?” I snorted. “That’s an understatement. Are we talking about the same guy who thought it was hilarious to fill my shoes with mayonnaise? It squelched. Squelched, Mr. Wright.” Mr. Wright laughed, low and warm, leaning back on his elbows. “You make it sound like I signed up for a prison sentence. Ethan’s a good guy. A bit... colorful, sure, but solid.”“Colorful? That’s generous
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Just as I was starting to relax, he nudged my shoulder with his, catching me off guard. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Thanks for dragging me out here. It’s... better than what I planned!”For a second, I forgot how to speak. Then I managed a half-smile. “You’re welcome.”The moment stretched, filled with an unspoken something I couldn’t quite name. And as I looked out at the water, I couldn’t help but think that this was one of those days I’d remember. Even if I didn’t fully understand why.After some quiet moment, where we both just sat there like a pair of lovers… no no no… better say awkward peoples—me trying not to hyperventilate because my teacher was literally sitting too close for comfort—Mr. Wright finally broke the silence."Hey," he said, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. "Are you hungry? Let’s grab a bite before we head back. It’s almost 3 PM. What say? I blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, yeah, I guess. I’m starving," I admitted, realizing I hadn’t eaten anythin
