His Heart, Mine

She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. They can't stand each other, so why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should?

His Heart, Mine

She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. They can't stand each other, so why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should?

The smell of warm pancakes filled the small New York apartment, a comforting aroma that usually signaled a peaceful Sunday morning. Alia, still half-asleep, slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cool floor, and padded into the kitchen. A plate of freshly made pancakes sat by the stove, a silent testament to her mother’s early rise.

She grabbed the plate and her remote, collapsing onto the living room couch, ready to lose herself in a familiar cartoon. It was only 9 AM, the city still hummed with a muted morning energy, and for a few precious minutes, the world felt perfectly at peace.

Then, the quiet scuff of footsteps from the bedroom broke the spell. Her heart, usually so stable these days, gave a tiny, anxious flutter. She knew that sound. And she knew what it meant: her brief moment of calm was about to vanish.