Thane Karli

The Owner is a domestic psychological drama that explores responsibility, gender expectations, poverty, and emotional survival inside a crowded family compound where one pregnancy exposes the fragile balance holding everyone together.

Hey family 🤍
I know I’ve been a little quiet lately, but life has been keeping me busy. However, I haven’t forgotten about you all.

Thank you for staying, for supporting, and for being patient with me.
New story is coming soon… and I promise it’ll be worth the wait ✨
With love always.

“When the world pauses me, I'll write what it refuses to hear.”

IN OUR SHADOWS

Chapter One : The Holiness of Distance

Elvis POV

We called each other "my peace" because with each other, nothing felt demanding. No expectations. No urgency. Just a quiet place to rest the parts of ourselves that the world kept bruising.

That night, her voice came through my phone soft and familiar, steady enough to slow my breathing. We talked about Christmas gifts, laughing like children hiding secrets they didn’t want to name. The call felt light, too light for everything I carried for her.

“You’re predictable,” Joyous said.
“And you,” I replied, smiling into the dark of my bathroom, “are impossible to surprise.”
She laughed, the kind that made the room feel less empty.

We always laughed when we were avoiding something.
“What are you getting me?” she asked.
“Something meaningful.”
She paused. “You always say that.”
Meaning had become my language with her. Careful. Deliberate. Safe. I never loved her loudly. Loud love would’ve broken the stillness we protected.

We spoke about colors, half-formed ideas, and small details that mattered too much to be nothing. The conversation felt intimate without being dangerous. Closeness without consequence was our balance.

Joyous had a life beyond our calls, which I knew without worrying about the full details. She had invitations I never heard about and friends whose names never crossed my screen. She moved freely through a world that didn’t seem to scar her. I didn’t ask. Some truths are heavy enough to disturb the peace you’re surviving on.

I dated without restraint. Freely but not recklessly, as if touch could replace connection, as if bodies could distract the heart. None of it lasted. None of them stayed.

My body understood distraction.
My heart knew only her.
With Joyous, I wasn’t a lover.
I was her confidant.
Her late-night voice.

Her emotional shelter that asked for nothing.
whenever I managed to ask her out. I got only shattered emotions.
This time, the line went quiet.
When she spoke again, her voice was lower, careful.

“You’re too good for me,” she whispered, like it was a fact we’d already agreed on.
She didn’t say no.
She didn’t say yes.

She gave me a sentence that felt like a locked door I kept touching, pretending not to knock.
The call moved on. She spoke about growth. About freedom. About becoming more without belonging to expectations or to people.
Freedom sounded effortless on her tongue.
Pandemonium settled into my chest like something permanent.

I agreed with everything. Like someone who understood. Like someone who wasn’t slowly erasing himself just to stay present.
That was the curse of us:
too much emotional intimacy to leave,
too little romantic truth to stay whole.
“Goodnight,” she finally said. “Sleep well, my peace.”

The call ended. The room felt louder without her voice. I stared at my phone longer than I should have.
Loneliness didn’t arrive suddenly. It crept in through shared jokes, shared silences, and shared names that meant everything and nothing at the same time.

Steam still clung to my skin when I stepped out of the bathroom. The woman in my bed shifted beneath the sheets, half-asleep, trusting. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, soft, practiced, and empty.

I chose peace over truth and called it loyalty.
I believed Joyous was untouched.
I believed she waited alone.
That was my mistake.

Joyous POV

Elvis’ voice always felt like relief. Like something I could lean on without being asked to carry weight in return.

We talked about Christmas gifts and laughed as if nothing complicated us. I liked how gentle he was, how he never demanded clarity, and how he never pressed his wanting into mine. He loved quietly, and I hid inside that quiet when the world felt loud.

“You’re predictable,” I teased him.
“And you’re impossible to surprise,” he said.
I smiled.
My phone buzzed while we talked; I didn’t explain. Elvis never asked. That was part of why I trusted him.

He asked me out.
I remember the pause after his question. How easy it would have been to say yes. How afraid that made me! For a moment, I lost all senses, yet I foolishly responded, “You’re too good for me,” I whispered. We both knew it was true. We both knew I wouldn’t be good for him either.

I didn’t want to lose the place where nothing was demanded of me. I didn’t want to be owned by expectations. Or by people, however, my heart whispered, "What if?"

We spoke about freedom. About growth. About becoming more without belonging to anyone.
“Goodnight, my peace,” I said when the call ended.
The silence afterward felt manageable until a message filled my screen. "I'm at your gate."
I sat for a moment smiling; I had someone to fall back on.

I believed Elvis was pure.
I believed he waited alone.
That was my mistake.

That night, fandom lived quietly between us.
Not the pain of rejection.
Not the pain of betrayal.

But the pain of two people protecting each other from truths they were both too afraid to disturb.

📖 In Our Shadows

In Our Shadows is a quiet story about loving deeply and losing slowly.
A journey through pain, lust, friendship, and loneliness. where hearts connect, but choices pull them apart.

Chapter One drops this January 10.

🌟 Welcome to Thane_Karli 🌟
Where stories breathe and poetry glows.
A haven for hearts that seek meaning, magic, and truth.

Thank you for joining this journey of words and wonder.