#novel #lovescenario #Asherharrington #hazelfoster #isabellehart #trending #trending videos Love Scenario Part_6 Hanie_🩵 Hazel’s smile tightened as she walked toward them, glass still in hand. The little boy skipped off happily, leaving Isabelle standing gracefully beside Asher, a faint glow in her presence. Hazel’s footsteps clicked against the marble as she approached. Her voice was sweet, but the edges were sharp enough to cut. > “Well, that was quite the performance,” Hazel said lightly, tilting her head. “You’ll have everyone convinced you’re an angel, Isabelle.” Isabelle turned to her, blinking in mild surprise at the tone, then smiled warmly as if she hadn’t noticed the sting. “It wasn’t much—anyone would have done the same.” “Not anyone,” Hazel muttered, swirling her drink. Her gaze flicked to Asher. “Some of us are too busy to notice these little… accidents.” Asher’s brow furrowed, sensing the tension, but before he could speak, Isabelle’s gentle laugh melted the moment. “Well,” Isabelle said softly, “maybe that’s why we’re all different. Some notice the grand things, some notice the little ones. That’s what makes us whole, isn’t it?” Her words were so kind, so disarming, that Hazel felt her throat tighten with fury. She had meant to expose Isabelle as a show-off, but instead, Isabelle’s answer only made her seem more gracious. Hazel’s grip on her glass trembled. She shot a quick look at Asher—only to find him still watching Isabelle, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Hazel forced a laugh, brittle and sharp. “How thoughtful,” she said, her tone dipped in sarcasm. “No wonder everyone’s so taken with you already.” Isabelle, unbothered, placed a gentle hand on Hazel’s arm. “You’re kind to say so.” Hazel stiffened. It wasn’t kindness. It was power—the kind that came effortlessly, without calculation, without years of trying. And that was what made it unbearable. ---

#novel #lovescenario 0#Asherharrington #hazelfoster #isabelle hart Love Scenario Patt_5 Hanie_🩵 The music shifted into a soft waltz, and the crowd began to drift toward the center of the hall. Hazel lingered near the refreshment table, her eyes never leaving Asher and Isabelle. They weren’t dancing—yet the space between them already felt like its own rhythm. Isabelle was speaking with her usual warmth, a gentle smile on her lips as she asked Asher about the gardens. Hazel couldn’t hear the words, but she saw the way Isabelle’s laughter lit her face, the way Asher’s expression softened—his guarded features loosening, if only slightly. Hazel’s chest burned. For years, she had tried—smiles, conversations, little gestures—to break through Asher’s coldness. And here came Isabelle, glowing and effortless, pulling at him like gravity itself. Hazel gripped her glass too tightly, her knuckles white. Why her? Why not me? Just then, a small boy—one of the guests’ children—ran past and tripped, tumbling to the floor with a cry. Several guests turned their heads but quickly went back to their conversations. Hazel froze, her jealousy blinding her to the scene. But Isabelle noticed immediately. Without hesitation, she knelt beside the boy, her gown brushing the marble floor, gathering him gently into her arms. “Shh, it’s alright,” she whispered, brushing his hair back from his face. “A brave little knight like you doesn’t fall without getting back up.” The boy sniffled, his tears fading as she coaxed a smile out of him. She helped him to his feet, dusting him off as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The guests around them smiled at the tender scene, murmuring about how sweet she was. Even Asher’s gaze lingered—something almost unreadable flickering in his stormy eyes. Hazel’s throat tightened. The envy was no longer just about Asher—it was about everything. Isabelle’s beauty, her effortless grace, her kindness that seemed to shine brighter than Hazel’s carefully constructed image. As Isabelle rose, the boy clinging to her hand, Hazel forced a brittle smile. Inside, though, she was unraveling. For the first time, she wasn’t just competing for Asher’s attention—she was competing against someone who didn’t even realize she was in the game. ---

#novel #lovescenario #Asherharrington #hazelfoster #isabellehart #trending #trending Love Scenario Part 4 Hanie_🩵 The petals had long since settled, but Asher hadn’t moved. His hand lingered at Isabelle’s waist a second too long before he finally stepped back, almost reluctant. “Are you hurt?” His voice was quieter than usual, almost careful, as if her answer mattered more than it should. Isabelle brushed a petal from her gown and shook her head, her lips curving into a soft laugh. “Just clumsy. Seems like the universe wanted to make an introduction for us.” Something in her words made his lips twitch—half amusement, half intrigue. Asher rarely laughed, but the warmth in her tone tugged at him, pulling at threads he thought had long turned cold. Around them, the gala continued—music swelling, glasses clinking, conversations flowing—but to Asher, the room seemed dimmer, the noise softer. All he saw was the girl before him, her presence oddly magnetic, her gaze steady enough to challenge the walls he had spent years building. Hazel watched from across the hall, her nails biting into her palms. She knew Asher—knew how aloof, how detached he always was, even with her. Yet here he was, leaning in, his storm-gray eyes locked on someone he had just met. Isabelle tilted her head, studying him with an ease that unsettled him. “You don’t talk much, do you?” she teased gently. A faint breath escaped him—something between a sigh and the ghost of a laugh. “Not when I don’t need to.” “And do you need to now?” she asked, her voice soft, unafraid, almost daring. For the first time in years, Asher didn’t know what to say. The silence stretched, charged, alive. He found himself looking away, not to dismiss her, but because he feared she would see too much if he didn’t. Hazel’s heart twisted painfully as she turned away, the taste of jealousy bitter on her tongue. She had waited for years for even a fraction of this attention, and now, in one evening, a stranger had unraveled Asher’s indifference without even trying. And though Isabelle hadn’t come seeking it, she had already begun to occupy a corner of Asher’s guarded heart. ---

Love Scenario Hanie_🩵 Part_1 ::::::::::::::::::::::::::: #novel #novel #Lovescenario #forbiddenlove #trending #Englishstory 🌸 Hazel’s POV The summer breeze drifted lazily across the Harrington estate, carrying the scent of blooming roses and freshly cut grass. Hazel’s red lehenga swirled around her as she ran across the garden, the golden sunlight catching every thread of fabric, making it shimmer. She laughed—a soft, musical sound that seemed to mingle with the chirping of birds and the distant rustle of leaves. But then she saw him. Asher Harrington. He was standing by the marble fountain at the edge of the garden, hands in his pockets, posture perfectly straight, yet somehow relaxed. That unreadable expression of his was plastered across his face, as if he were carefully guarding every thought behind an invisible wall. Hazel’s heart skipped. It always did. Always, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise. Since childhood, Hazel had known this day would come. Her grandparents’ promises echoed in her memory, soft but unwavering: “You two will marry one day. It is decided. It has always been decided.” Back then, it had felt like a storybook, a magical promise of a love yet to be discovered. But now… the weight of reality pressed on her chest. Because while she had grown up loving him quietly, hoping that someday he would look at her the way she looked at him, Asher… Asher had never looked at her that way. She slowed her pace, her heart hammering not just from running, but from the anticipation of what was to come. He didn’t move. His gaze followed her every step, but not with warmth, not with the tenderness she had imagined in her dreams. “Hazel… do you really have to follow me everywhere?” His voice cut through the garden, calm, steady, almost cold. Her chest tightened. She forced a soft smile, the kind that hid the ache in her heart. “Asher… even if you don’t want me by your side, I’ll still wait.” The words felt both brave and foolish as they left her lips. Brave, because she had admitted her heart yet again. Foolish, because she knew he didn’t feel the same. She had seen it in the way he laughed without her in it, in the way he avoided her touch, in the way his eyes never softened the way hers did for him. Asher’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. And Hazel’s chest sank with a familiar ache. That smile—so slight, so unreadable—was the closest she had ever gotten to any kind of affection from him. She wanted to shout, to run into his arms, to tell him how long she had loved him. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked away, letting the breeze carry her hair over her face, hiding the blush that rose to her cheeks. Why can’t he see me? Why can’t he feel the same way I feel? she thought bitterly. I’ve loved him since I was a child. I’ve always been there. Why isn’t it enough? Hazel sat on the edge of the fountain, letting the water trickle past her fingers. She closed her eyes and imagined a world where Asher loved her back, where their laughter intertwined, where their hands brushed in perfect unison, where she wasn’t just the cousin whose marriage had been arranged, but the woman he desired, the one he longed for. Opening her eyes, she saw him still standing there, statuesque, distant, untouchable. Her chest ached. She had to remind herself again: he did not feel the same. Not now. Not ever… perhaps. And yet… despite the ache, the bitterness, and the rejection she already sensed in his every movement, Hazel’s heart refused to stop. She had promised herself she would wait. And wait she would. Even if it killed her slowly, even if every smile he gave another girl felt like a dagger, even if her heart broke a thousand times over… she would wait. Because love—her love—was stubborn. Unyielding. And it belonged entirely to Asher Harrington. ---