Note: Hello there! Thank you for stumbling across this article... or rather, excerpts of a novel I'm currently writing on Wattpad @meialle. (Link of my Wattpad profile in my bio.) It would mean the world if you could support it on there, because not many people give me feedback, and I'd love to have some as this is my first project!!

I'll be posting short prose // poetry here on WeHeartIt, but my novels will be exclusively on Wattpad. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy these short excerpts! (:


Excerpt 1 ~
From 1: a little drummer boy

My fingers reached for a door handle, but before I could even touch it, the door opened by itself, granting me access inside. I drew my hand back, throat dry. My heart sped up, beating so fast I thought it might as well have broken free from my chest. I had tried to bottle that fear up, but it seemed as if it was all in vain.

Swallowing, I leaned forward to peek into the room but found nothing in it but a child's toy in the corner. It was a little drummer boy — the ones that, when spurred by the winding key in his back, would hit the drum strapped to his body.

It was an odd sight and one that confused me. While the rest of the house was in near ruins, dusty and decaying, here was a little drummer boy, the varnish on his figure sparkling even in the lack of light. His eyes were a light brown, almost too glossy that it looked just like two honey drops. A small nose graced his features and his line of a smile spoke of nothing dangerous. Nothing out of place.

I reached for the door's handle, knowing no good came to those who stared at things they didn't understand. My grandmother had told me countless times not to disturb the slumbering. To not touch anything that did not cause any harm, or I'd be the one to instigate it.

My fingers brushed against thin paper instead of the metal handle of the door, and I looked down to find something that I was much too familiar with.

Chinese talismans, yellow with red stamping and black calligraphy.

I traced the characters with a finger, my brows coming together with concentration as I read the curling black ink. It was a binding talisman — one of the many that had been strung across the door.

And it had broken when the door had swung open.

Dread seeped into my heart as I gasped out loud, a chill coming over me. I swallowed, breathing irregular, as I kept my eyes glued to the wooden floor. A shadow had crept up in front of me, belonging to the one thing that I had seen inside of the room just seconds before.

The drummer boy lifted my chin up. When I met his eyes, I was paralyzed.

The brown color was the same, but where that thin smile once had been was replaced by one that stretched wide, splitting his entire face in half. I stared at the sharp daggers of each tooth, legs quivering so violently I thought I would collapse onto the floor.

"Hello, witch girl," the drummer boy purred, watching me with the eyes of a predator. "Thank you for freeing me."


Excerpt 2 ~
From 7: avoiding the issue

I didn't question Raphael's ability to take us home in a split-second. Right when my feet touched the carpet of my room, I unwrapped my arms around his neck and went to my closet wordlessly. After pulling out some clean clothes, I left for the bathroom. I could feel his eyes on me and the way they burned into my back like he already knew what was happening to me at school, but I didn't confirm. I just needed a shower to get everything off my chest.

Shedding my uniform, I stepped into the shower and cranked it all the way to cold. I let the frigid water rain over heated skin, taking the warmth away and replacing it with what felt like blocks of ice. My pendant froze against my chest, almost so cold it felt like fire burned my skin. A fissure started at my trembling lips, threatening to crack my calm façade in half, but I sealed it. It was almost as if the water had froze it with its own icy touch.

After what seemed like a million years, my blue fingertips turned the water off. I shivered as the air chilled my skin even more, but I welcomed it. Bearing this was easier than dealing with other things.

Not bothering to towel-dry my hair, I tugged on fresh clothes and emerged from the bathroom to find Raphael standing right in front of me. My heart leap to my throat, seeing him there, as my head tilted up to level my gaze with his unreadable one.

"Yu Rui."

It wasn't a statement or question. It was more so to try and coax something from me — to perhaps make me break down in front of him or blurt out what was on my mind.

But I didn't let myself cave into his silent request. I just stepped to the side and proceeded to my bedroom, meaning to sit on my bed and cocoon myself in thick blankets and lose myself to the immediate warmth it would give me. It was almost like being wrapped up in someone's arms — like being given some sort of affection, and this — this was why I always took cold showers when I was upset.

Even with my mother away and both my father and grandmother gone, it would still feel like there was someone who could hold me. That was what I wanted, at least, even if it wasn't real. Even if it was just me lying to myself over and over again.

I wanted to be alone, to silently mill through my thoughts and feelings before burying them. But knowing Raphael — even for the mere few days we spent together — he wouldn't grant me this one wish.

Before I could even step foot into my bedroom, he marched right past me, towel in hand and plopped down onto my bed. There was a simmering anger in his eyes as he motioned me forward to him.

I hesitated, swallowing. I already knew he had a way of making me tell him things I would rather not tell anyone. My hand came up to my pendant, absentmindedly fiddling with the thin gold chain that circled around my neck loosely.

When I didn't make any move to go to him, he sighed, fingers weaving through his dark hair in annoyance. Impatience. "Darling..." There was a warning in his voice. Obviously, if I didn't comply with him, he wouldn't mind stalking over, grabbing my arm, and dragging me to the edge of the bed himself.

Pursing my lips, I did what he wanted me to do, stopping to stand before him.

He took my wrist, pulling me closer so that I stood between his legs. Where his fingers touched my skin, it burned, leaving only heat behind. For some reason, I blushed furiously at this, looking away when I knew he saw my flushed cheeks. I knew I couldn't hide it, but I tried nevertheless.

His fingers came up, grazing the heated spots on my face as a soft laugh reverberated through the air. Before he could see my skin grow redder at this, he threw the towel over my head, gently patting the wet strands of my hair dry.

Then, he let the towel slip down over my shoulders, down to my waist, and pulled me even closer. My knees hit the edge of the bed and I tipped forward, hands coming out to balance myself. They curled over Raphael's shoulders, almost thawing when his warmth seeped into them.

"So, darling." He looked at me with his crimson eyes, giving me a sweet smile, as if to tell me he still wasn't going to let what had happened this afternoon go away. "Mina, hm?"

"She didn't do anything." The words came out as practiced. I had said it so many times in the past that it came too naturally to me.


"Yes, really."

He twirled a damp lock of my hair around his finger, watching as it held its shape. At this angle, I could see the the shadows his lashes made when he lowered them over his crimson eyes, almost letting them brush across his high cheekbones. They were thick and dark, as if they'd been painted, and I half-expected them to leave thin black marks over his pale skin when he blinked or closed his eyes. He let my hair go in a swirl, winding another around his finger before glancing back up at me. "Why lie, darling? You know I should be able to see through them well enough." He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. "I can hear your heartbeat speed up every time you spin a pretty one for me."

I wanted to break away from him, but I couldn't. Something bound me to him, so tightly that it hurt every time I forced myself to untangle myself from him. Whenever I told him I didn't need him, it felt like another lie. I pressed my lips together, fingers tightening around his shoulders. The tips turned white, blanching. "You don't need to know," I said, "It —" I broke off, swallowing. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Darling, it has everything to do with me.

~ e.h.

My other articles: