Johnny Orlando Imagines

explaining myself.

it's worth a read, seriously. it's a lot more than a boring rant, promise!

hello! hope everyone's doing well and kicking ass in this prison that our lives have become, credits to the damn pandemic that's still lingering :)

i've been gone (once again, lost track of the number of times, really) for about three months now inspite of promising that i wouldn't be slacking as much as i have been doing.

so where the hell have i really been? and what the hell have i been doing that's kept me from updating?

welllll. . .sorta wanted to wait till the last minute before telling you guys but i think it's better to get out with it rather than having you all think that i've slipped into hibernation.

remember nyctophilia? how we'd all absolutely fallen in love with the roller coaster of emotions that it put us through?

yeah, i'm publishing it as an independent story.

it'll be called nyctophilia since there's no title that fits the storyline better! except, this one won't be a fanfiction. it's got its own characters and i swear they're all so lovable!

in this one, though the plot's similar, the language is stronger, the feelings are deeper, the emotions hit harder - in short, your heart will break a little more than it previously had and it will definitely feel happier than it had done the last time.

there'll be a few changes in it, it's not at all a copy/paste version of the series i posted in this book. simply, it'll be a lot better - you can count on that.

and now, the best part : a lil sneak preview of it (or something?) !

For some people, night was bliss.

Part of these beings who believed in its beauty and appreciated it was Nyx Hayden.

She looked at the night like it was a canvas with infinite borders, painted with the magic of the stars that glittered and glowed in a manner that put diamonds to shame. They lighted up the sky like soundless fireworks, enhancing the darkness' charm endlessly.

And so Nyx Hayden sat on her windowsill, blinder drawn up and window thrown open. The cinnamon strands of her fell down to her chest, dancing gently with the wind as it whipped past her cold face, tangling up her delicate brown locks that resembled silk, glossy and smooth to touch. Her eyes were gazing up at the moon, matching it's radiant gleam, blazing with fiery ambers. Her bare rosy lips were pulled up so very slightly from the corners, hardly classifying as a smile but not dull enough to be recognised as a frown either.

The chills of the night didn't seem to bother her as she sat in just a baggy checkered shirt, buttons done unevenly, one of the sleeves falling off of her shoulder and leaving part of her collar bone unprotected against the icy breeze, an open book lying on her crossed, naked lap.

She had befriended the cold long ago, having forgotten what it felt like to be embraced by warmth.

There was nothing like the night. It gave her time to switch off her mind, allowing her senses to be clouded by the calm till her chaotic thoughts returned to snatch her numbness away. The stars would smile down at her, making the loneliness that clutched her heart like vines seem far away. The creatures of the night, hidden deep in the shadows, gave her the comfort of knowing that she wasn't alone, that there were others sitting under the same sky as her and having at least something to look up at, something that looked right back down at her.