Betterfly Miraculous Novels & Stories

Anna assured me while squeezing my hand in support and I smiled at her. My eyes wandered back to Miracle and our eyes met for a second before she looked away with a frown. Either she thinks I'm creepy or she can feel something that she couldn't explain. The party continued and everyone gave their gifts to her, including me. My gift was not anything expensive but the latest invention of my company. A hi-tech pillow that will automatically adjust according to the user's body position. It also has a cooling and warm function, according to the room's temperature. Plus, it has a massage function that can help the user relax or get rid of a headache. Miracle had her brain open recently and I figur

"It seems you're a fan of his product Mirasol," Eric uttered while staring at the limited edition Earth Sports watch on Mirasol's flawless wrist. He wanted to buy a pair of them but he did not have a chance since the last two pairs he saw is already reserved. The goodness of the watch is that it can signal the other pair if the one who is wearing the first pair will suddenly collapse or fall. If it detects any movement not usually done by the first user, the other watch will change its color to red. He plans to buy for himself and give the other one to Mirasol since he greatly values her. However, he was surprised that she already own one. But who gave her? Who owns its pair?

Young brought her a crystal glass filled with a royal jelly and pearl collagen elixir, its soft golden sheen catching the light. “Ma’am, you should drink this,” Mrs. Young said gently. Miranda sat in the upstairs living room, still looking pale. “This came from Mr. Gibson himself,” Mrs. Young added with a small smile. “It’s from a Swiss wellness brand. It’s supposed to boost your strength and circulation. Try it and see how it tastes?” Miranda froze just as she lifted the glass. “He sent it?” Mrs. Young nodded quickly. “Yes, it arrived this morning. I could tell it was something special, so I chilled it right away.”

Worse than the initial briefing. Helena noticed her expression immediately. “How bad?” She questioned quietly. Althea didn’t soften it. “He shouldn’t still be alive.” She responded. “That’s how bad his condition is.” The gurney burst through the operating room doors seconds later. Lights exploded overhead. Machines activated. Sterile trays positioned rapidly. And there, near the center platform, the AURELIA system waited and already assembled. The most advanced neuro-assistive surgical interface that is attached to Althea, Miracle Hands.

Jeffrey took it and opened it himself, revealing a sleek, rectangular device embedded with subtle blue circuitry lines that pulsed like veins. “This…” Jeffrey said, holding it up with both hands, “Is a prototype from my latest research. It’s a neural interface wellness board. In layman’s terms: it syncs with brainwave frequencies to help regulate sleep cycles, relieve anxiety, and monitor vitals in real-time, especially helpful for someone with a history of stress-related conditions.” “It syncs… with brainwaves?” Edward whispered from the back, clearly stunned, “That’s… Years ahead of current tech…” “I call it the NeuraEase Alpha. Your body will thank you in a week, Old Mr. RedField.” Jeffre

Tool. Perfect.

Win told him to massage a point in between his shoulders. "Here"? Bright pressed the point and started working his fingers once Win nodded. He was melting under those fingers that were moving all on his almost naked body. His neck, his shoulders, his arms. Moving up and down, brushing the back of his fingers. Win leaned back until he met Bright's torso. He felt tingling when Bright bend down a bit to touch his thighs. His knee, his under thighs close to his semi hard bulge. He breathed deeply, inhaling all oxygen.

They watched me through the shower glass. I soaped slow. Blind. Exposed. I bent for the soap. And saw it in the drain. Half a contact lens. Blue. Not mine. Not my sister's—hers are brown. Someone else showered here. I stood. Wrapped the towel. Fumbled the tuck. Blind people can't see mirrors. "Your phone," the robot voice said. I reached out. "Where?" "Counter. Left." Wet phone. Cracked screen. I turned on VoiceOver—Siri reading fast, gibberish to them, clear to me.

Not blinking. Something really isc razy. I feel it deep in my bones.