Balanced And Barefoot Novels & Stories

I made my way to the back door, and I could feel the early breeze coming from the mountain, but I could also smell the saltwater coming from the other side. I sprinted in the direction of the woods, and I ran as fast as I could without taking a breath; I couldn't believe I could run so fast even if I were wearing no shoes, and I didn't feel tired or feel my pain on my feet, I know running barefoot on the woods could harm me. Still, it seems I felt invincible as of the moment, and I could feel my prey is within the area, and I smiled as I realized I could satisfy my hunger now, and I no longer care about my human nature as the need to have fresh meat consumed my mind.

My feet reached out for the ground to maintain the balance when someone grabbed them from behind, restraining them from moving unnecessarily. (To be continued....) ~~~~~~~~~~ Comment if you want double update!

His eyes zero in on my shoes and immediately widen in horror. “I will admit that I hate salads and appreciate you supporting and encouraging me to eat real food if you explain what the fuck is on your feet!” he exclaims, “To quote a certain Wakandan; WHAT ARE THOSE?!” he cries, gesturing dramatically to my shoes. I glance down at the shoes on my feet, “Don’t you go dissing my sandals,” I say defensively. I love these shoes. They’re open-toed sandals with a large white cushioned platform base, neon yellow detailing, extra padding under the heel and two translucent neon yellow buckles that strap over the top. I think they’re great.

The bar bends under the strain, plates stacked to ridiculous proportions. I’m paralysed. Utterly and completely frozen. This is the most I’ve ever seen of him, and it’s mine and every other poor saps fantasy exploded into life. I’m scanning him from the ground up. His feet are big, solid, planted like they could hold up the earth. His calves, holy shit. His thighs?

"Never mind." Kicking off my shoes for better balance, little pulses of old magic seeped into my feet. Magic was easier to connect with barefooted on actual earth than dead wood, but I could feel it all the same. I couldn't do anything flashy like Bianca, the blood was too far removed, but if worst came to worse, I would be harder to kill should things get ugly. I really hope it didn't get ugly. "So…how about a private dance?" There I said it, left it out in the open, awkwardness reaching maximum levels, and he—

Plus, since she couldn't walk on her own, something must have happened to her foot, the young Bimantara thought as he immediately inspected her feet. Bia was wearing canvas slip-on shoes—which looked like they had been worn for a long time; the color was faded, and the soles were worn thin. Ha... no matter what her life circumstances were, she should at least wear proper footwear. She had been receiving a salary from his father, right? Why was she still wearing such thin shoes? Adrian wondered. Was there something more important than buying new shoes? Grumbling inwardly about how he couldn't understand why the girl insisted on wearing things that looked unfit—in his eyes—Adrian removed both

I didn't want to be a complete ditz. “Yeah,” I answered. The pain was fading, but it still hurt. “I just stepped on something sharp.” Aiden dropped to his knees a took my foot in his hand. His gentle fingers probed my flesh and I had to put my hand on his shoulder for balance because he was making my world spin with want. “You're barefoot again,” he chastised gently. “It doesn't look like you broke the skin, though. You have something against shoes?” “You're just as barefoot as I am,” I informed him. “Besides, who goes swimming with shoes?”

"Good. You can take a break for now. You can take off the shoes." I didn't waste any time as I bent down and removed the shoes. Throwing them to the side as if I had no care for them, which I don't. The ground seemed to comfort me as I fully felt the whole floor with my foot. I didn't even bother to look for my flats as I raced to the sofa. "Flat ground! Flat ground!" I rejoiced and ran barefooted. I wonder how some of these girls were able to bear wearing those heels. What a pain. I started to stretch my legs on the sofa not caring about manners anymore.

I shout to my Beta “Sure.” He answers from my office. “We’re going out?” My little wolf asks quietly. “Yes.” We walk across the grounds to the edge of the forest, heading in the opposite direction to the town. She moves with ease, her steps light as she expertly climbs over falling trunks and dodging the stones with her bare feet. It was like her feet knew the earth better than anyone wearing shoes. “Have you always hated shoes?” I ask out of curiosity. She spent most of her time barefoot, without socks or shoes and it never once phased her.

But standing here now made it look almost modest. As I admired the scale of it, reality tugged me back, people passing by had started to stare. It didn’t take long for me to realize why. I glanced down at my feet. My shoes were dangling from my hand, and I stood there barefoot on the polished stone. Earlier, on my mad dash across the street, I’d broken my toenail badly. The pain had been so sharp it made me limp, and the only thing that felt bearable was to take the heels off entirely. But now, about to walk into a company like this, I knew showing up barefoot was worse than limping.