Broly Romane & Geschichten

Terrible friend. I texted Brody back and told him I'd be there. Even though I don't yet know how I'm getting there. I'm looking forward to spending some time with him. He's changed a lot from the kid I first met. He's always been good-looking. His brown hair is a little longer and hangs over his eye a bit now. I want to run my fingers through it and muss him up a bit. Then there's the fact that he's big. He's got to be at least six foot three or four. He's huge from working out and running probably. At least that's what I remember. His biceps and thighs are huge with thick corded muscle. He's got these brooding, bedroom eyes that always make me think of se8x. Down and dirty, hot and sweaty s

Then he left, casually heading up to his room, leaving me behind, reeling and wondering what this new game was all about. I slumped back into my chair, my thoughts swirling with a mix of anger, apprehension, and curiosity. What could he possibly gain from this fake generosity? The Raj I knew—my stepbrother, my one-time bully—was never the kind of person to do anything without a hidden motive.Generosity and kindness didn’t suit him; I knew his true nature—the heart of a devil wrapped in a handsome face. Wait… handsome? My mind quickly corrected itself. Handsome? No way. He’s the most unattractive devil there could be. His kindness was nothing more than a mask, hiding something far more sinist

If I don’t take Carmen as mine, if I don’t bind our souls, I’m dead. Brody has done tests. For the past three years, he’s run every single test he could muster up. Cell regeneration, or the lack thereof. Dead cells infestation of live cells. Dementia. Alzheimer’s. Anything and everything he could test me for, he has. A year ago, he came to me one very dark and stormy night, quite literally. Drenched from the rain, exhausted beyond belief, with dark bags under his eyes from the lack of a proper diet.

Mom immediately held him to calm him down. “Fine, best father.” Even with surgical mask, I could still see through Dr. Cameron’s smirk. He cleared his throat and in an instant, he’s all freaking serious—made me wonder how could they easily pull that off? Was it a genetic skill or something? “Apparently, my badass nephew got it really bad. It was a major accident that caused his body to malfunction, especially some of his organs since the impact was severe and totally serious. Good news is, I managed to revive his heart. The bad news is…” he looked away, pulled down his mask and let out a harsh sigh. “What, dude? Say it.” Clarence Cameron, his other brother anticipated.

“Fuck you.” “Agent Brody,” I sighed. I took of my suit jacket and rilled my shirt up. “You are beginning to frustrate me,” I said, my blood boiling. I wasn't sure I would be able to hold back the rage I felt towards this man. He knew something to do with Lyla, yet he refused to speak about it. “The crows?” I prodded. “Speak up.” “They rose like you guys,” Brody said, raining his head up. His right eyes is completely swollen shut, and his jaw is sprouting a large ugly purple bruise. “From the cracks.”

"What the hell? Has hell frozen over? No, wait... this is a dream." Brody groaned and rolled his eyes. I was confused. The guy looked at me and smiled wildly. "How did you get this tuff as nails statue to look somewhat alive?" He all but laughed out loud. His laugh was definitely contagious. I was too out of it last night to notice, but his aura is bright. I mean, he's like the sunshine. He smells of cinnamon and orange. His scent is as vibrant as he is. I smiled and looked between the two.

Brianna's perfectly applied mascara nearly smudged from how wide her eyes went. "Who? When did you get a sister, Crew?" "Oh, he hasn't told you?" I couldn't help the satisfaction in my voice. "That's interesting." Crew shot me a warning look, but I ignored it. "Well, I'm sorry to inform you that Crew here, your boyfriend, is my stepbrother." I smiled sweetly at Brianna's shocked face. "Didn't he tell you that?" "You wish." Brianna laughed, but it sounded forced. She turned to Crew. "What is she talking about? And why are you sitting with them?"

Brody was standing in the doorway, still wearing his team-issued sweatpants and a hoodie. He wasn't smiling, he wasn't making a joke, and his usual loud, obnoxious energy was completely missing. Instead, his face was a completely unreadable mask of stone. And in his right hand, he was holding a crisp, printed piece of paper. He didn't say a word as he looked past my shoulder, his eyes locking onto Jules, before he slowly lifted the printed blog post and held it up between us. "So," Brody said, his voice quiet, flat, and echoing loudly in the heavy silence of the hallway. "Are we going to talk about this, or are you guys just going to keep pretending I'm blind?"