They say love is the sweetest thing a human can feel.
They also say it's the deadliest.
Both are true.
Love is a double-edged sword. It cuts the one who swings it and the one it touches. You bleed either way.
I should know. I've been on both ends.
I wasn't born a cynic. I used to believe in romance, in promises that lasted forever. I believed that when a girl said you're the only one, she meant it. But lies have a way of dressing themselves as love, and when the mask falls, it leaves scars deeper than any wound you can see.
So I built walls. I wore the mask of the boy who didn't care. The one who played. The one who left before he could be left. And people believed it. They called me a heartbreaker, a liar, a boy who only wanted one thing.
Maybe I let them believe it because it was easier than admitting the truth: I was broken.
And then… she came.
Faith Carter.
Her name was too pure for the storm she brought into my life. With her, the walls I'd built didn't matter. She laughed, and the cracks widened. She looked at me, and I stopped pretending I didn't care.
With Faith, love didn't feel like a game. It felt like fire—warm enough to heal, hot enough to burn.
But nothing pure survives untouched. Not in this world.
Her parents hated me. My so-called friends had their knives out. And the distance they tried to put between us only sharpened what we already felt.
This is not a story about easy love. It's about stolen moments, whispered promises, and the kind of desire that keeps you awake at night. It's about manipulation, betrayal, and war disguised as family duty.
It's about me—Mitchell Davis—learning the hardest truth of all:
Love doesn't just heal you.
It destroys you, too.
And maybe… just maybe… it's worth it.
---
Chapter 1 – They Say Boys Only Want One Thing
They say boys only want one thing.
A body. A night. A name they'll forget in the morning.
Maybe they're right. Maybe most of us are liars with soft words and sharper hands.
But not me.
Not anymore.
Because then I met her.
---
How We Met
It started in Literature class three months ago.
The professor paired us up for a presentation, and when she looked at me for the first time, I swear the world forgot how to breathe. Faith Carter—storm-grey eyes, auburn hair that caught sunlight like fire, and lips that looked like sin wrapped in innocence.
I was Mitchell Davis—the boy with the bad reputation. Rumors about me floated around the school like smoke: player, heartbreaker, the guy who can't stay serious for more than a week. I didn't bother correcting them. What was the point? Nobody believes a boy when he says he wants more than sex.
But Faith… she didn't treat me like a rumor.
She tilted her head, studying me like I was a puzzle. Then she said, "Guess we're stuck with each other."
I smirked. "Hope you don't regret it."
She didn't smile back. "We'll see."
I didn't know it then, but that was the moment everything changed.
---
Tonight
Her parents thought I was just her study partner. If only they knew what kind of studying we were about to do.
The lights in her room were dim. A faint scent of vanilla hung in the air—her shampoo, I'd learned. She sat cross-legged on her bed, flipping through the project notes we'd already finished hours ago.
"You know," she said softly, without looking up, "people say you're dangerous."
I chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Dangerous? That's a new one."
Her eyes flicked up, sharp and challenging. "They say you break hearts for fun."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "And do you believe that?"
Her lips twitched. "I don't know. Should I?"
I closed the space between us slowly, letting the tension stretch. "Give me one chance, Faith. Just one. And I'll make you forget every rumor you've ever heard about me."
Her laugh was nervous, her cheeks pink. "Mitchell…"
"Hmm?" I whispered, my voice brushing against her skin as I leaned closer.
"You're impossible."
And then her lips touched mine.
---
The Kiss
It wasn't gentle.
It was hungry.
Her hands clutched my shirt like she was scared I'd vanish. I pressed her back against the sheets, my body caging hers in. The taste of her lips made me reckless, every kiss pulling me deeper, erasing the lies I'd told myself about not caring anymore.
Her breath came faster as my hand slid beneath her top, fingertips brushing warm skin. She gasped, arching into my touch.
"Mitchell…" she moaned, half warning, half plea.
"Tell me to stop," I whispered against her neck, kissing my way down.
But she didn't. Instead, she tangled her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer, her body moving against mine with a desperation that made my control snap.
Clothes became an obstacle. I tugged her shirt upward, lips tracing the soft skin of her stomach, and she shivered beneath me. Her thighs tightened around my waist, pulling me closer.
Her voice was breathless, raw. "Make me yours."
And God, I wanted to.
My mouth found hers again, deeper, messier. The world outside that room no longer existed. There was only us—her gasps, my groans, the wild beat of two hearts refusing to listen to rules or parents or the weight of reality.
For once, I wasn't the boy who played.
I was the boy who loved.
---
The Interruption
I was just about to lose myself completely when the door creaked.
"Faith?"
Her father's voice.
Ice. Sharp. Unforgiving.
We froze. Her body pressed against mine, both of us panting. My pulse thundered in my ears.
The doorknob turned.
And as the door opened, his shadow filled the room.
Love wasn't just ours anymore.
It was about to become a war.