[In a Fit of Madness, I Became the Vessel for His White Moonlight]
[Third person] Updated
[Unhinged heroine vs. scheming hero + twists + hero’s long road to win her back + childhood trauma + healing]
He planted a flower with his own hands, hoping to bury her and her hell. Little did he know that on the day it bloomed, hell would open two pairs of eyes. One pair wept blood; the other smiled.
I got out of the car and watched him wave to me, his eyes crinkling. I walked toward him carefully as a slightly sultry breeze from the tail end of summer swept over me.
Maybe my hair was a little messy. Maybe my heart had unknowingly fallen into some kind of whirlpool, too.
“I like looking into your eyes. It’s like they’re speaking, saying such lovely, gentle things.”
He grabbed my hand tightly. “She used to hold my hand like this, too...”
I pushed him away with nearly all my strength. “Okay, so you’re playing the stand-in romance trope here?!”
“Don’t think you’re the only one who dares to harass me just because this is a deserted alley!” I deliberately leaned close to his ear as I spoke. That counted as provocation, right...
I wrote it myself, you must like it!
From the first chapter to now, I am looking forward to the next plot more and more! Big cheers for the author!