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Fractured Restraint
Last Updated:
2025-03-06 23:20:27
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Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Silence is a Crueler Punishment than Words
Silence is a crueler punishment than words.I’d rather he yelled at me, scolded me, told me I was a reckless, impulsive girl who didn’t know what she was playing with. I’d rather he looked at me with disgust, with regret—hell, even with anger.But he gave me nothing.Not a glance.Not a word.Not even the barest acknowledgment that I existed.Cristiano Wright had vanished.Not literally, of course. He was still here, in the same classroom, standing at the same podium, his deep voice filling the space with lectures about history that I wasn’t listening to.But he wasn’t here.Not for me.And it was driving me fucking insane.It started the moment I walked into class.His eyes skimmed over the room, pausing on every student but me.I sat in my usual seat, watching him, waiting for the subtle smirk, the flicker of emotion, the challenge in his gaze that always made my pulse quicken.Nothing.He didn’t look at me once.“Alright, let’s continue where we left off yesterday,” he said, voice
Last Updated : 2025-03-07Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Save Me From My Professor!
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
Last Updated : 2025-01-01Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Essays, Books, and One Very Smug Professor
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
Last Updated : 2025-01-02Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Trouble in Overdrive
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,
Last Updated : 2025-01-03Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths My Fucked Up Family
I could not describe the hostel as home, but for the time being, it was. The distinct scents of instant noodles and strawberry body spray greeted me like a one-two punch as soon as I walked into the room that I shared with Mia.There she was, sprawled on her bed with her headphones on, bopping her head to music that I could only guess was some hyper-pop nightmare.Our room was a “cozy” 10-by-12 box with two twin beds, a shared desk that wobbled if you so much as breathed on it, and a wardrobe that we had diplomatically divided right down the middle (though Mia’s side was constantly trying to invade mine).Above her bed was a collage of polaroids, fairy lights, and motivational quotes like “You got this!” and “Dream big!”—which, quite frankly, made me want to hurl.My side was... let’s call it minimalist. A plain white blanket, a pile of unread books, and a single framed picture of my mom from before everything fell apart. No frills, no nonsense—just the way I loved it.I dumped the ba
Last Updated : 2025-01-03Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths What did I just get myself into?
The coffee shop smelled like roasted dreams and charred realities—a fitting backdrop for my developing sense of gloom. Sitting at a small table across from Mr. Wright and my excessively exuberant brother Ethan, I grabbed my cup like it was the only thing tying me to this world. It was ceramic, warm, and not judging me—unlike my current company.Ethan, in his usual cheerful and oblivious manner, was talking a mile a minute. His enthusiasm was practically bouncing off the walls. “Man, it’s so good to see you again, Chris! Can I still call you that, or are you all formal ‘Mr. Wright’ now?”Mr. Wright—sorry, Chris, as Ethan insisted—leaned back in his chair, laughing. It was an easy, friendly laugh that made me wonder if he ever laughed that way during class. I wouldn’t know. The most I’d gotten from him was a polite “good job” when I accidentally solved a problem on the board.“You can call me Chris, of course,” he said. “I don’t think I could ever take ‘Mr. Wright’ seriously coming from
Last Updated : 2025-01-04Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths What had I done to deserve Wright’s attention?
Lying on my rough hostel bed, I looked up at the ceiling and tried to interpret the chipped-paint Morse code’s mysterious messages. Sadly, all it said was an existential dread of a girl being unwillingly “cared for.” Ugh.Ethan’s voice still rang in my head from that day in the coffee shop.“I need you to look out for her, Chris. Treat her like your own.”First off all, I wasn’t an abandoned puppy in need of adoption.Secondly, what did that even mean? Like his own what? Sister? daughter? Responsibility? The ambiguity alone was enough to make my skin itch.And then there was Wright—or should I say Mr. Wright—who sat there, sipping his coffee with that maddeningly poised face. The kind of look that screamed, Don’t worry, I’ve got this under control, while simultaneously exuding But do I, though?He’d agreed so quickly, like the thought of taking on a bratty, sarcastic teenager was his idea of entertainment.Why?The ceiling offered no answers, only the faint outline of a water stain sh
Last Updated : 2025-01-06Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths The First Meeting
I hate how much space he’s taken up in my brain. He’s like the unwanted roommate who just moved in, and now I’m stuck with him squatting in my head.He’s settled in comfortably, more like too much comfortably, like he’s paying rent for a penthouse, though no one actually asked him to. And let’s be real—I didn’t give him the key, either.It didn’t help that it was Saturday. Saturdays should come with a universal pass for being a lazy couch potato, binge-watching Netflix and pretending school doesn’t exist.Instead, I was stuck in a never-ending loop of overthinking. My brain was running in circles, replaying every embarrassing moment that led me to this point. Seriously, if there was a way to file for mental bankruptcy, I’d be first in line.I could’ve been napping. Or, you know, pretending to be productive. But no, instead I was trapped in my head, circling like a vulture waiting for my next mistake. And honestly?I didn’t even want to think about Mr. Wright. I wanted to think about l
Last Updated : 2025-01-07
Latest chapter
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Silence is a Crueler Punishment than Words
Silence is a crueler punishment than words.I’d rather he yelled at me, scolded me, told me I was a reckless, impulsive girl who didn’t know what she was playing with. I’d rather he looked at me with disgust, with regret—hell, even with anger.But he gave me nothing.Not a glance.Not a word.Not even the barest acknowledgment that I existed.Cristiano Wright had vanished.Not literally, of course. He was still here, in the same classroom, standing at the same podium, his deep voice filling the space with lectures about history that I wasn’t listening to.But he wasn’t here.Not for me.And it was driving me fucking insane.It started the moment I walked into class.His eyes skimmed over the room, pausing on every student but me.I sat in my usual seat, watching him, waiting for the subtle smirk, the flicker of emotion, the challenge in his gaze that always made my pulse quicken.Nothing.He didn’t look at me once.“Alright, let’s continue where we left off yesterday,” he said, voice
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Fractured Restraint
The kiss was wildfire—devouring, insatiable, reckless. Cristiano’s hands gripped my waist, not forcefully, but with the kind of desperation that made my pulse stutter. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was raw and filled with something neither of us dared name.I knew this was wrong. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to stop, to pull away, to regain the control that had already slipped through my fingers. But how could I, when his lips moved against mine like he was memorizing me?His hands skimmed the fabric of my blouse, fingers flexing like he was trying to ground himself, to hold back. But I didn’t want him to hold back.I deepened the kiss, pressing closer, feeling the hard lines of his body, the way his breath hitched. My hands tangled in his hair—so soft, so inviting, so maddeningly perfect—and a shudder ran through him.But then, like a snapped thread, everything shattered.Cristiano wrenched himself away from me so fast it left me breathless. His chest heaved, his
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Tuesday, or was it Wednesday?
Honestly, does it even matter anymore? Time’s just a blur, a fleeting concept that slips through my fingers, especially when I’m stuck in the suffocating hell of History class, pretending to care about monarchies and powdered wigs.I couldn’t focus on the lesson, though. How could I? My eyes were locked onto the back of Mr. Wright's head, as though it was some kind of magnetic force pulling me in. He'd insisted on being called Cristiano now—no longer ‘Mr. Wright,’ no longer the untouchable figure I once saw as my teacher. And every time he said my name, every time those deep brown eyes flickered to me from the front of the class, something in my chest twisted with a hunger I couldn’t ignore. The worst part? He knew it. And that infuriated me.The way his dark hair—messy, like he'd just rolled out of bed, trying to look all tortured artist chic—begged to be touched, ran my thoughts into a frenzy. Not that I wanted to think about touching him, of course. That would be... wrong. But ther
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths When Care Feels Like Burning Fire
The door clicked shut behind me, and I exhaled, pressing my back against the wood. Silent. Still. Every move calculated. I was a ghost, a shadow, a fugitive in my own damn dorm room.Mission: Get to bed.Obstacle: Mia Carter, the world’s nosiest roommate.If she so much as sniffed out a secret, she’d gnaw at it until there was nothing left. And tonight? Oh, she was on the hunt. She’d been circling me all day like a damn vulture, eyes gleaming with the thrill of my supposed “date.”Too bad for her—I was slipping in unnoticed. No interrogation. No prying. Just sweet, glorious peace.I crept forward. One step. Two. Almost there—“I thought you weren’t coming back tonight.”HOLY FU—I sucked in a breath so hard I nearly choked on it. My knees buckled. My soul left my body.“MIA, WHAT THE HELL?!” I hissed, clutching my chest like a damsel in a 19th-century novel. “Are you TRYING to send me into cardiac arrest?!”She cackled. Not giggled. Not chuckled. The sound that left her mouth was pure
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths Unholy Temptation
The whole goddamn situation was wrong. I never ever wanted to bring her off-campus. Not even for a second. But no, Ethan, that bastard, emotionally blackmailed me into this. He made me take her out. Made me buy her things, like I wasn’t already dealing with enough shit. God, I should’ve just told him to fuck off. I should’ve stood my ground, told him I wasn’t his damn babysitter. But no, like a fucking idiot, I agreed.But here's the twist — Goddamn it, she’s Ethan’s little sister. His sister. And somehow, that makes it even worse. Like, how the hell do I walk away from that? I should’ve kept my distance. I should’ve turned him down. But no, Ethan shoved her into my hands like a ticking fucking time bomb. I could already feel the explosion coming. I should’ve seen it, I should’ve known, but no — I let my guard down.Then, there's this. Technically, I’m supposed to treat her like my own sister, right? I’m supposed to look out for her, keep her safe, protect her... like any decent human
Silent Flames, Forbidden Paths The Fire I Can’t Extinguish
Mr. Wright's POVThe clock ticks.A steady, methodical sound. A sound that should be comforting, grounding.But tonight, it’s deafening.I sit at my desk, back stiff, fingers curled into the polished wood as if holding onto reality itself. The glow of the lamp casts long shadows across my apartment, but none of it—none of it—feels real.Not when my mind is trapped in her.Clara.The rain.The dress.The way the fabric clung to her like a second skin, exposing her in ways she didn't intend.I shouldn’t have looked. I know that. But knowing and doing are two very different things.I close my eyes, exhaling sharply, forcing myself to retreat into logic, into discipline—the very things that have always anchored me. But she is there, waiting in the darkness behind my eyelids.Her hair, dark and wet, slicked against her skin. Her lips, slightly parted, trembling from the cold, from the sheer weight of what had just happened.And that dress. God, that fucking dress.The rain had betrayed her
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
