Ask Me Questions Novels & Stories

But then again, it is the (ugly) truth. “Wait... I have so many questions… We are your second chances? Who were your first? And what happened with them?”. Asher asks, followed immediately by Aiden. “And what happened between your father and you and your mom? And wait – you got her at 6?!”. “Geez, you guys ask a lot of questions. I’ll answer, but I get 5 questions in return next”. They both nod at me solemnly, so I continue to answer every question.

​“D⁠o you want i‌t?‍” T⁠he question​ ca⁠ught me off guar‌d‍. ‍ “‍Y​ou’re n‌ot going t⁠o a​⁠sk if it‌ w‌​ill​ interfer⁠e w‍ith the b‍abies?” “No.” “Or if⁠‌ you‍’ll have e⁠n​ough ti⁠me fo​r me?” ‌“No.​” “Or⁠ if it’s‍ necessa​r‍‌y?”

So deep that you need to think about your answers. “I’m not dumb and I just wanted to ask questions that would pop in my head. And you always answer my questions so what's the fuss?” He rolled his eyes at me, making me laugh. “So, why do you want to be here?” he asked. “Huh?” I looked at him, confused.

"Can I ask you a question?" "Sure." "What do you think about Jack?" "Huh?" "I mean, do you... maybe... perhaps... like him?" "Huh?"

He continued rinsing and drying, leaving me with my mouth hung open and eyes still wide as a saucer. First off, what the hell does he mean by he doesn't relate with humans? Forget it. That's confusing as hell. I don't want to think about it. “I am going to forget; you just try to blow my brain. So the twenty questions are done like this: you ask me ten questions about myself, and I do the same to you. And no, it's not childish. We are getting to know each other.” I explained. “Ok… and if it's a question that I don't feel like answering?”

It’ѕ tеllіng me to аѕk mоrе questions; fіnd оut mоrе; do more; think mоrе. I’m just оn the verge оf fіgurіng it out. Thеrе’ѕ nо wау I’m giving uр nоw. The nerve of thе guy is аѕtоundіng. I ѕhаkе mу hеаd аnd open mу purse, I’m іnѕtіnсtіvеlу looking fоr lірѕtісk that’s nоt thеrе anymore. I need to think аbоut whаt’ѕ nеxt.

LET'S DO A Q&A! (ASK THE CHARACTER OR ME QUESTIONS!) — you guys, can leave the questions in this chapter...🌼

“I’m good.” “You’re sure?” she raises a brow. “Yes,” Her gaze softens, and she lowers her voice. “I’m always here if you want to talk.” God, I don’t want to do this. I shouldn’t do this. But I’m already so desperate. “About?” I manage. “Anything.” Fuck it. “Can I ask you a question?” Her lips curve knowingly. “Sure.” I swallow, feeling the heat creep up my neck. “So, I’m asking for a friend.”

The knock came again, patient but insistent, and she found herself moving toward the door despite every instinct warning her to remain safely inside. Through the leaded glass panels, she could see the silhouette of a tall man, though the distortion made it impossible to make out details beyond an impression of elegant stillness. He stood perfectly motionless, as though he could wait eternally for her response. "Who is it?" she called through the door. "My name is Damien Nightshade." The voice was cultured, with an accent that belonged to no particular region but spoke of old money and older manners. "I believe Eleanor mentioned me in her arrangements."

She asked. I looked at her with confusion written all over my face, wondering what she could possibly want to ask me. We may have been friends but we didn't know each other that well. “Just ask. We’ll see if I can answer or not.” In my experience, when someone asked you a question like the one Sonya had asked, it was probably because they knew you either weren't in a capacity to answer or the question was too hard. “How did you get here from Chicago and why can’t you go back?” She asked.