Atticus Pund 소설 & 이야기

I stand and place my hand on Thane's chest, trying to divert his anger from Atticus. "What happened? What did Atticus say to make you so mad?" I asked. Thane finally looks at me, but before he can answer, Atticus speaks up, "Just cause you were born first doesn't make me little asshat." "It does in my book, " Thane responded. But then, he looks at me again, "He's an instigator; he likes to do things to rile me up." I look back to Atticus, who was standing up now; he shrugs, "He's not wrong..."

Atticus. The people within the frame seem almost alive because whoever painted them captured their features with incredible, vibrant colors. I can't help but stare at Atticus. He is absolutely stunning, his amazing eyes just as emerald green as when I saw him in the mist. His resemblance to the man and woman sitting just below him confirms they must be his parents. He's a combination of them both, with his father's hard jawline and his mother's plump lips. There's a girl in the picture as well who's most likely his sister, but she's much younger.

“So… this friend of yours. Atticus, right?” He nodded so hard his hair bounced. “Yes! He’s my best friend! We play dinosaurs and racing, and he knows all the names of the sharks—” “Right, right,” I cut in gently. “But what’s his full name again?” Reid blinked up at me, thinking hard. “Umm… Atticus… Atticus Gabriel… Mon… I don’t remember the rest” “Mhm.” I nodded like that didn’t bother me at all, but it does. “Okay. Where does he live?”

The lady looks so fine and awesome with her loose hair while aiming expertly. She's cool, and a badass there! I snapped myself out of the irrelevant thoughts. Come on, there's no time for fangirling over harmful peeps! It's clear that they are experts in this field of violence. "T-tell me what's happening, please! Who are these people?!" I asked Atticus once again. He fired his gun before giving me a sly look. "You can't still make my half-bro speak?" He said that with an expression saying i'm so cretinous for not being able to do it.

the heavy smell of sweat and metal wafted through the air. That’s when she saw him. Atticus Finch, half-unzipped jersey, tape wrapped around his wrists, stood near the locker room entrance. His hair was damp, his eyes sharp, his expression unreadable as if always calculating, always judging. He looked like a man who never needed anyone. Sheila felt her skin prick. She stopped, making herself breathe the way it should. She did not want to be seen as nervous. She didn’t want to indicate that he impacted her. He looked up, as if feeling her gaze. Their eyes met. Not in a romantic way. Not in a “fate” kind of way. In a way like being stared down by a predator. Atticus's lips curled into a small

I demanded. “You are so impatient, my darling,” Dad chuckled weakly. “Well, you aren’t helping matters either by delaying the conversation,” I pointed out. My Dad turned to look at Duke, who gave another curt nod before walking out of the room. After Duke left, nobody said anything. It was as though Dad was thinking of the best way to deliver his statement, and I patiently waited for him to put his thoughts and words together. “Do you know who Atticus Hayland is?” He asked, surprising me.

I pushed the door slowly, every muscle coiled, ready for an intruder, a reporter, someone with a camera and a death wish. What I found was worse. Atticus Vale sat in my living room, in the dark, in my favorite chair, a glass of my scotch in his hand. He was Fifty- six, silver-haired, sharp-featured, dressed in a suit that cost more than most people's cars. He didn't look up when I entered. He never did. "You missed the investor meeting," he said, his voice smooth and cold as a blade on ice. "I was at a board meeting."

“You’re crazy. I don’t love you. I never will.” But he doesn’t seem to hear me. He reaches into his pocket, retrieving a silver locket. “I was going to give you this tonight.” He pinches the side and it flicks open. When I don’t take it from him, he dangles it before my eyes. I expect to see a picture of myself and him, but on the right oval, there is an elegant scrawling with a single word. Name. Lucianne. “For our daughter,” Atticus adds. “I carved it myself.” My free hand flies instinctively to my stomach. “There is no ‘our’! My—”

Andrew said, enthusiastic about the fight. "Good evening. Welcome to The Patio at Rudy's. My name is Raine, I will be your server this evening. Can I start you guys off with a drink and appetizers?" the young girl with black hair and beautiful tanned skin, full lips, and hourglass body features says, holding menus and handing the, out to us. "Yes, can I have a glass of Chardonnay?" Phoebe says. "I'll have a beer." uncle Fred orders.

I said, pulling out a file, handing it to Carter to give to the men “these are the last of the things we got for the club, and I brought you here to know where your money was spent. Tonight is the opening and I expect you all to be there” “You needn’t worry, Pakhan, we will be there on time” Andrea, one of the Italian men said, his eyes meeting mine. I nodded, watching as they passed the file between them to see what had been bought to report to their own bosses. “If there is nothing that you need to ask, you can leave. Let your bosses know that I would be expecting each one of them to be there, and note that I do not like unnecessary delays” I said, watching as they got up. Donato Bianchi,