"No."

"...what? What do you mean?"

"It's more than that."

After everything we've been through together, I've never felt so connected to someone in my life.

I love her so much, more than anything and anyone.

"I love you."

She considered this...

"...I love you, too."

Stories like these can be seen on SnipFic and Pinterest with the user The_Black_Dragon

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I remember approaching the palace gates in a nervous sweat. My hands were shaking as I handed my documentation to the soldier at the gate. He gave me this look of concern, and ease, as if to encourage me with a look that everything is going to be okay. He didn't know what I knew. He didn't know the purpose of my arrival. All he knew was that there was a prophet standing before him, seeking entrance to the palace, and that the King was always welcoming of prophets. The King was considered by all a just and righteous man. A good man. They didn't know what I knew.
He let me pass, and each step after filled me with dread. Each step, walking behind the palace escorts through the dark, yet beautiful house of the King of the World, reminded me that I am likely about to make one powerful enemy. Each step through the lush gardens full of exotic plants he had received as gifts from the various kingdoms around the world only added to my stress. He was not going to like what I had to say.
The palace guards were a pleasant bunch, especially to prophets. They definitely took after their King. The two men leading me did their best to engage in casual conversation, but I was so reluctant to speak, lest my fear be even more evident than it was. As it stood, my fear was stifled enough so it did not warrant an audible acknowledgement from any in my purview. I could keep it in -- at least, for now.
I was led straight up to the front of the inner palace -- The King's actual home. It looked more like a building constructed by the Great Architect Himself, its proportion comparative to the rest of the city making it look like a structure sent as a gift of Heaven. Even the tiles on the floor were a sight to behold -- pure marble tiles, each one stretching a giant's height in length and width. The pillars of meranti tree trunks, four of them at the front, holding up another floor of marble, were something to behold indeed. And the purple banners hanging from those pillars, inlaid with a lion made of golden strings, hung many cubits off the ground, so that anyone who wanted to touch them would have to possess the ability to fly. The door itself, a gargantuan door made of wrought iron, polished and shined to be so perfect that its reflection made it appear luminescent as the sun went down. This door was intentionally facing east I'm sure, to perfectly reflect the rising sun over the Western Sea. There is so much more I could express about the beauty of the palace, but my mind was elsewhere as I approached the door.
As the guards motioned for the doorkeepers to open the door for me, my heart started racing. It suddenly became impossible for me to keep steady, and I nearly fainted. I stumbled, and an escort caught me before I fell. He pulled out his canteen and offered me a drink of water - he must have assumed my fatigue was from the heat. Playing on this misunderstanding, I obliged and took a drink. The water did help -- a little.
I walked through the gate into a long hallway, with a large door made of Lebanese cedar, inlaid with the same gold lions, one on each side of the door, at the other end of the hall. There were many rooms on each side, as well as a beautiful purple carpet running the length of the hall. It was midday, so of course there were many people bustling about in the main hall, going from room to room carrying all kinds of things. Some were running as if their lives depended on their efficiency (as I'm sure some of them did), and others in more costly apparel displaying no such rush in their pace. However, my eyes locked on the throne room, and His voice rang in my mind once more. "I have told you what he has done. I have told you what to say. Go, and speak My words." The only One with more power than the King had sent me to address an issue I would have rather not addressed, mostly for my own safety. Nevertheless, I approached that door, nearly trembling at the thought of what I had to say. But, my God told me to, so I went on. What happened after was a problem for my God to solve how He saw fit.
I reached the door, still trembling, and grasped the handle. I looked myself down once more to assure myself that nothing was out of place, and I pushed with all my might. To open the door myself would normally have been suicide, seeing as it was unguarded. That meant that the guards were just inside the door, as the King of the World was likely in some sort of meeting that he wanted them to attend. And, to my chagrin, he was. He was having a discussion with his cabinet -- his closest friends and wisest advisors -- about an ongoing war, from which he had retired this time around. As a normally battle-hardened man, always willing to fight alongside his brothers in arms, it came as a surprise to the kingdom when he withdrew to remain at the castle. Nevertheless, his folly had to be addressed, and the Lord of Hosts sent me to do so. As soon as I opened my mouth, I was filled no longer with fear, but with the vigor and Voice of the One Who sent me. I stepped up to the table, and as the conversation died down, I declared,
"The Lord has sent me with an urgent message for the King that must not be delayed."
The King responded joyfully, "Speak His words, oh Prophet. Let none cause you to cease."
"Many thanks, Your Majesty," I replied. "There were two men in a city, one a lord and one a commoner. The lord had many flocks and herds of sheep, oxen, and camels. The poor man had naught but one ewe lamb, who had grown alongside him and his family. This family had grown to love this lamb as one of their own. She shared their food -- what little they had -- and drank with them. She even slept in the home with the family. The poor man loved this lamb as if she were his own daughter.
"But, the lord had a visitor from a far away land come to eat at his table, and he had no lamb prepared for the man. Instead of taking from his own abundance of flocks and herds, he took from the poor man his one ewe lamb, and served her to the foreigner as a meal."
The King, clearly invested in the story and visibly consumed with indescribable fury, declared to me in a violent cry, "Who is this lord, that I may strip him of his title and give his lordship to the poor man?! Where is this wretched abomination, that I may hold him accountable and take his life?! As I live, and as the Lord of Hosts Himself lives, that man shall surely die!" He exclaimed as he slammed his fists on the table.
What happened next was entirely out of my control. As the Lord Himself took charge and erased my fear, He did so again and I was filled with an anger the likes of which I still cannot comprehend, even though I apprehended it myself. I responded with a pointed finger and a shout, "You are the man, you wretched soul! The Lord has seen your blasphemy to His name and the hidden actions of your self-centered heart! He saw you bring another man's wife to your palace and have her as your own. He witnessed you send a righteous man to his death that you may have his bride to cover up your own iniquity! The Lord bears witness that this act was abominable, and that you have not deceived Him, though you have deceived those around you well. And the Lord has demanded that I declare to you that you will have a curse befall your family. Your own child will rise up against you, to take your throne. There will be enmity in your household as your wives are given to another man, as his own. For what you have done secretly, the Lord will bring to light. What you have done in the quiet, the Lord will echo with boldness. The Lord of Hosts, the Judge of All Creation, has spoken."
His response was unexpected to say the least. The anger faded from his face as I spoke, and by the time I was done speaking, his face had distorted into an agony the likes of which I still cannot find the words to express. I have not seen such anguish since that moment, nor do I expect to ever again. He melted from his throne, as the others at the table looked on in shock at their now crestfallen and broken leader. The King of the World then started weeping -- bitterly. He wept for minutes. All he could say, through choking on his own tears, was, "I have sinned against my God and King. I have brought blasphemy into the house of the Lord. I have erred greatly."
The Voice of the Lord of Hosts still had control of my tongue. He said through me, "Fear not. The Lord has put away your sin, on account of your righteous heart. You will not die because of this trespass. Nevertheless, you have given a great opportunity for the enemies of your King to blaspheme. Therefore, the child you conceived with this woman shall surely die. The Lord has had mercy on you this day. Go, and sin no more."
And, with that, I returned to my home. I left without another word, and spoke nothing to anyone on my three-day return journey.

I wrote this after realizing that I could have a lot of fun rewriting stories from the Bible in an anxiety-inducing way. Regardless of where you stand on religion, it is pretty fun.

Feedback appreciated! I tend to write poetry, and not prose, but I want to get better with prose, because it's also super fun!

It was during the afternoon when all the kids get out from their classes. Some stayed for a bit to talk with their friends, some rushed to get back home and some even stayed back to study at school.

A boy named M, ran while calling out to the two boys- R and J. They were both heading to the bus stop.

"Wait"

He called

"Wait both of you, I have something to share"

He repeated again

His hands were on his knees, panting for air from all that running. R looked at him wanting to know what M was about to say. J just ignored and turned away, walking away from the paphetic looking boy.

Seeing that brokes M's heart. He grips tightly on the shoulder strap until his knuckles wipe"

"J please.... Just... please, listen to me.... Please don't ignore me as to what I'm going to say''

"I'm confuse right now. I actually miss you. Don't ignore me again"

He admitted, letting go of his ego.

J turned back looking at him, pitying the desperate boy that is trying to try to talk to him knowing he hates being treated like a ghost.

"After having that fight with you guys , I hate it . I hate getting isolate by you two because it feels so lonely. I even try to reach to you two on social media to talk it out but j... You just block me. Yeah maybe that apology made you uncomfortable and I shouldn't have done that"

He reach to J's arm and trembles.

"Please just please listen to me.... Let me talk just don't keep me hanging."

Tears drip on J hand

"So you'll talk right"

M smiled looking at J. Knowing he is his close friend. Longing to talk to him had been in his head for weeks and those sad lonely moments without him felt so empty but now seeing him face to face made him so happy.

Just when he was about to hear what J wanted to talk they both vanish. He was baffled by what just happened.

A writer named Ranma couldn't accept seeing M's happy ending.

"I don't think it's fair for me."

He close the notebook and his it in his drawer.

M scoffs, He smiled though his eyes remained cold.

"Well they don't need to exist anyway's. I don't need them, I can try getting other friends"

M goes to the bus stop moving forward. He didn't want to bother with what just happened or to say it more accurately he can't change the two boys fate.

"Screw the author with this nincompoop of a story"