Novel & Cerita All Those Days Watching From The Windows

Chapter Nine Day Three Thursday. The next day, Bisola woke up reluctantly to the jingling of the alarm beside her. Bisola opened her eyes first, and then she rubbed her with her backhand, last night was too awesome for her, she and Tolani her friend scout every clothing store in the city, they are not necessarily buying everything, but they just wish to share more time together, both understand that, they might not have the time to share together like this in the future.

It was the best day ever. Or so I thought at the time. Just like our first date, George took me sailing. He had a picnic of delicacies set up for us. Wine and cheese with fresh fruit, oh, and those amazing crackers I could never get enough of. It was the perfect weather for it, just enough wind without overdoing it. The breeze kissed my skin, leaving goosebumps. I couldn't help but feel as though it were the best day ever. And he said all the right things, looked at me with those eyes, green my favorite color, that seemed to sparkle just so in the sunlight. I was a girl in romance heaven as he fed me grapes.

POV: Callum | The Feral Den, three days after The room I am in has a window and the window has light coming through it and the light has been doing different things over the course of three days as it moved through its cycle, and I have been watching it without registering it, which is the specific quality of the past three days, which is that things have been happening in my visual field without registering as information.

Scarlet POV I sit at the windowsill and stare out the window down at the green lawn. It is a beautiful sight, but I am exhausted of seeing it. I have been seeing it for the last five days and I fear that at one point, it will be the only thing I see when I close my eyes.

HANNAH’S POV: I smiled despite myself and hung up, glancing out the tinted window. The sun was bright, the sky painfully blue, the kind of day that dared you to be okay. For the first time in days, I didn't feel like the brightness mocked me. It felt... inviting. The city moved past my window in a blur of color and motion. People going about their lives, completely unaware that mine had recently burned to the ground. Literally. There was something oddly comforting about that. The world kept spinning whether you were ready or not.

XANDER I stood at the window, watching the sun dip lower on the horizon, casting an amber glow across the sky. The breeze was gentle, carrying the scent of fresh earth and the quiet promise of evening. I breathed in deeply, the cool air filling my lungs, and for a brief moment, I felt at peace. But that peace was fleeting. ‘Today might be the day I join my father in the afterlife,’ I thought, the weight of that realization pressing down on me. The sunset, beautiful as it was, couldn't mask the bitter truth gnawing at my insides.

We stayed at the window longer than we had stayed at any window before. The moon went down. The first grey came. The rose. The gold. We watched the morning arrive. Not because we were waiting for it. Because we had decided to be there for it, together, without the urgency of needing to be somewhere else. The baby was asleep. The Keep was asleep. The wolves were resting. The bond was warm. The morning was coming. We watched it come. "This is the one I'd choose," Kael said. "Which one?" "Of all the windows. In all the years." He looked at the morning. "This one. This window. This morning."

Natalie Evans stood by the tall window of her suite, her arms folded across her chest as the sun dipped beneath the skyline of the city. The world beyond shimmered with golden hues and rising lights, but her gaze was elsewhere—drawn to the distant memories that were beginning to claw their way back into her present.

A year. Three hundred and sixty-five days of watching the world from behind a stranger's face. Adrian stared out his penthouse window at the sprawling grid of New York City, a metropolis of light and life that felt as gray and desolate as a graveyard. This face, this body, was a choice—a desperate, last-ditch effort to claw his way back from the abyss.

I spent the rest of the day in my room, and by night the packhouse was silent around me. I stood by the window, the same window Julius once found words burned across. Now the glass was clean. At least it looked that way. Outside, the world breathed slow. Inside, my reflection watched me too closely. I leaned nearer. It leaned back, but a beat late. “Stop,” I whispered. It smiled. In my own voice it said, He’s not the only one watching. A hairline crack split the glass from top to bottom, thin as lightning. I stumbled back, pressing my hand to the mark that had begun to pulse again.