Some love stories are written in the stars.
Mine was written in a curse.
I met him in a place that didn't exist…
in dreams that felt more real than my own life.
He wasn't supposed to be mine.
Maybe that's why my heart chose him.
Every time I got closer, something pulled us apart
like the universe itself was trying to remind me
that loving him would come with a price.
And I was foolish enough…
to fall anyway.
This is not a story about perfect love.
This is a story about a love that was never meant to survive.
The night was unusually quiet.
The kind of quiet that makes even your own breathing sound loud.
Moonlight slipped through the half-open curtains, falling softly across my room
painting everything in shades of silver and shadow.
I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling…
sleep just out of reach, like it had been for the past few nights.
It had become a habit now
the restless nights,
the strange feeling that something was about to change… even though I didn't know what.
Everything looked normal.
And yet… nothing felt normal.
I closed my eyes, forcing myself to sleep.
Maybe it was just my imagination.
Maybe I was overthinking again.
But the moment sleep finally took over…
I was somewhere else.
Somewhere I had never been before.
And yet… it felt familiar.
Like I had been there before.
The air was still—too still—
like the world itself was holding its breath.
And then…
I saw him.
Standing just a few steps away.
I couldn't see his face clearly…
but I knew it was him.
Not a stranger.
Not someone new.
But someone my heart had been waiting for…
long before I even knew what love was.
Every part of me wanted to go closer.
And I did.
Slowly… carefully…
like one wrong step could break everything.
The closer I got, the stronger it felt
that pull… that connection…
something I couldn't explain.
He didn't move.
He just stood there… watching me.
Waiting.
I lifted my hand.
Just a little more…
Just a little more
A sudden heat spread through my skin.
At first, it was faint.
Like warmth.
But then
it burned.
Sharp.
My breath hitched as the heat crawled up my arm,
settling right at my wrist.
The same place where his hand almost touched mine.
I gasped, trying to pull back
but I couldn't move.
It felt like something was holding me there.
Forcing me closer.
Forcing me to feel it.
The burning intensified
like my skin was being marked.
Like something unseen…
was claiming me.
Suddenly
The air changed.
The warmth disappeared.
And something invisible pushed me back.
Hard.
My heart started racing.
My chest tightened.
Like I wasn't supposed to be there.
Like I wasn't supposed to be near him.
And then I heard it
a whisper.
Soft… but terrifying.
"You were never meant to love him."
I woke up, gasping for air.
My hands were trembling.
My heart wouldn't stop pounding.
And yet…
the strangest part wasn't the fear.
It was the feeling that…
I had just lost someone.
And the worst part?
It wasn't just a dream.
Because every full moon…
I saw him again.
And yet…
every morning I wake up,
I can still feel it
his touch.
But this time…
when I looked down at my wrist…
there was a mark.
A faint, glowing mark.
Not a scratch.
Not something I could ignore.
It looked… deliberate.
Like a symbol.
My breath caught in my throat.
No.
This wasn't possible.
I hadn't touched anything.
I hadn't gone anywhere.
I was asleep.
So then how
A memory flashed.
His hand.
Reaching out.
Almost touching mine.
I pulled my wrist closer.
The mark pulsed softly…
like it was alive.
And for a second
just a second
I felt it again.
That same warmth.
That same connection.
I froze.
Because deep down…
I knew one thing.
This wasn't just a dream anymore.
And whatever this was
it had followed me into the real world.
My name is Lisa.
And no, I'm not special.
At least… that's what I used to believe.
I'm just an eighteen-year-old girl trying to survive expectations…
and the constant noise inside my own head.
Simple life.
Predictable.
Safe.
Until he appeared.
It started with dreams.
Only on full moon nights.
At first, I ignored it.
Then I feared it.
And now…
I couldn't escape it.
Because I see him.
Not once.
Not twice.
But every full moon.
Same place.
Same silence.
Same him.
And the worst part?
He looks at me…
like he knows me.
Like he's been waiting.
Waiting for me…
for centuries.
I can never see his face clearly.
It's always blurred
like something is hiding him from me.
And yet…
every morning I wake up,
I can still feel it.
His touch.
Fear was there.
But something else was stronger.
Curiosity.
I needed to know.
Who he was.
Why he kept appearing.
And how…
a dream could leave a mark on my skin.
This didn't make sense.
And maybe…
that's exactly why I couldn't ignore it.
I took a slow breath.
And for the first time…
instead of being afraid
I made a decision.
The next time I saw him…
I wouldn't stop.
I wouldn't run.
I would get closer.
And this time
I would ask him..
"Who are you…?