All Those Days Watching From The Windows Novels & Stories

I looked up at the stars, but all I could see was her face at the window, eyes wide with a fear she doesn't understand yet. Five hundred and seventy-three days of waiting are over. Tomorrow, I take what is mine.

~BELLUS POV~ The feeling of being alone and unwanted. Why am I living? What I am living for? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It's been 2 days since I got discharged at the hospital and I am doing great, although the bickering and teasing with Pawell and Keith seems fun, it was kind of boring these days, plus the weather was still cold. It was almost my birthday and I can guess that it would turn out to be an ordinary day, maybe my parents would just send me some gifts like before.

The floor was cold and she shuddered as cold wind passed through the opened windows. She quickly padded across the floor and stared through the window. The trees were eerily dancing in the wind, and the howl of leaves against the quiet night was too loud. It was too windy tonight and the moon was hiding behind a sinister looking cloud. As far as her eyes could see, she only saw the darkness and ... somehow she felt like someone was watching her from the darkness. She shuddered as she slammed the windows shut, but even then she felt the eyes trailing her, following her, stalking her.

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.

enjoy It was a dark grey day in Rome, Italy it was raining heavily that night, the atmosphere was mournful but not a single tear escaped from the man's eyes ,who was standing in-front of the grave gripping his fist , his eyes bloodshot red , he just stood there staring at . “Boss we should go now its not safe to be out her—” *bang*

​She stirred, and the movement sent a sharp, localized ache through her hips. ​Daylight was doing something tentative with the expansive windows—the particular grey-pink of a New York dawn that hadn't decided yet whether to commit to the day or stay tucked under the smog. ​She turned, her skin dragging against the fibers of the rug. ​Xavier was beside her.

Edwina stood near the window of her room, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared as a new day was upon The Black Thunder Pack. The sun rays filtered softly through the glass, casting a golden glow across her face, but the freshness of the morning or the rays of the sun didn't ease the darkness inside her chest.

The city outside Amara’s window was quiet in a way that felt unnatural, like the hush after a fire when the smoke still clings to the air but the flames have died. She stood there in silence, arms wrapped around herself, watching the first pale streaks of dawn stretch across the skyline. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass, tired eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, shoulders bowed under the weight of too many battles fought in too short a time.