Annoying Orange X Pear Novels & Stories

There was even what looked like a small yellow melon with deep white stripes. But the most interesting thing that Fyn saw was a fruit that oddly looked like an orange. Yet he knew it was anything but. The smell was different, the texture was different. It was a pear-shaped orange fruit that had smooth skin. When Fyn bit into it, he was surprised that it split in half, showing two large brown seeds in its center. "That's a loquat."

This fucking Demigod looked like he had just walked out of a magazine. I had always wondered how he'd look while naked. Sorry, us. And here we were, clothes ripped off and ready for sin. “You'd be my stepsister in a few weeks, don't you care?” I shook my head quickly, almost like cutting him off. “No, I don't.” “This is forbidden.” He pressed a smirk on his lips. He wasn't just interrogating me, he wanted to know the level of my desperation—how eager I was for this. “Rotten Fruit tastes sweetest,” I mentioned, grinning like an idiot. “Soren, now I don't care about fucking taboos.”

"And oranges." His pretty eyes search mine as if this might be a cruel joke. "I’m a lycan, Pearl." Wow. He was playing the Lycan card right now. "Oh. I assumed you were a man too, who needed more than just meat to survive. I guess I’ll just eat this myself." His fingers gripped the edge of the basket as Pearl started to pull it away. "No. No, apples and oranges sound—" His voice cuts out slightly, like he couldn't bring himself to say it. "That sounds really good. Thanks."

Paityn noticed the overly muscular man, at least in her opinion, go join his friends at the table as hazel eyes continued to order. “Yes, it is but she has some help and she prefers to keep busy.” “Yes, of course.” “What kind would you and your friends like? I recommend the blueberry muffins. That’s usually the favorite.” Paityn asked politely. “Maybe, but what is your favorite?” He asked leaning, one arm against the counter awaiting her answer like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Personally, I’m partial to cranberry orange. But I’m biased. Cranberry is my favorite color and orange is my favorite fruit.” Paityn suddenly feels embarrassed for giving too much information about herself he

Hector announced as the man brought the baskets towards Orian, "Fresh Red apples and green lemons." "Get those away from him!" Nexus screamed springing towards our direction and Orian already backed away from me moving from the table and almost falling over his chair as if he had just seen a ghost. For the first time that morning, I noticed that his waistcoat fabric was similar to that of my dress. He had matched with me.

Just oranges. An aggressive quantity of oranges. Enough oranges to support a small civilization. The receptionist looked up as he stared at the boxes. “We asked around.” “And?” “No one knows who sent them.” Mrs. Holt walked into the lobby at exactly the wrong moment. Or the right moment. Depending on perspective. “Wonderful.” Adrian looked suspicious. “What exactly is wonderful?” “The oranges.” “That answer concerns me.” “I already have plans.” “Of course you do.” Interesting. Very interesting. By lunchtime the oranges had somehow become marmalade, fruit baskets, decorative arrangements, and what Mrs. Holt confidently described as a citrus strategy.

But I do. “The pear is excellent, love,” he says, his voice smooth and conversational, as if we hadn't just witnessed a social execution. “You should try it before it gets too cold.” I look at him, then at the stunned faces of the Board and his parents. Damon is vibrating with unspent rage. Victoria looks like she swallowed a live toad. Barbara and Daniel are suddenly interested in the contents of their plates, eating hurriedly. Nobody says a word. ****

I turn to look at him. He is peeling a blood orange. He does it with a small, sharp paring knife. He doesn't tear the skin; he slices it in one long, perfect spiral. The scent of citrus explodes in the air. Sharp. Acidic. He separates a segment. The flesh is dark red, almost purple. He reaches across the table. He doesn't ask. He presses the segment against my lips. "Eat," he commands. The table goes quiet. Even Spadino watches.

It was orange in colour, which was not very creative of her people. “Huh, what do you mean?” He asked with his mouth full, and I shook my head. “You’re eating her fruits again,” I pointed out, and he looked at his hand, shrugging. “So?” He questioned, biting into the orange without separating the segments as Amanah did; what kind of animal was he?

Lucia pouted. "Who said the taste would change?" Orlan took a knife and carefully cut the apple. "Give me back my apple. Don't piss me off; it's still early." Lucia whined. Orland smiled crookedly. "You're funny when you're angry, especially cranky." Lucia clucked angrily. "You are annoying." She took another apple, but Orlan retook it. Lucia held back annoyance that would explode her.