"burn Those Who Burned Me!" Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Now they will have to kill me to stop it.” The door rattled under heavy fists. The slow burn had finally caught. And the flames were only beginning.

“You’ll thank me later.” I muttered under my breath, “I’ll show you ‘thank me later.’” And I stalked toward the restaurant, Tristain following like he hadn’t just nearly killed me for fun, visor reflecting the streetlights. This was going to be a very long night. I looked up at the glowing cursive above the door. L’Orchidée Blanche I raised an eyebrow. “You used your mommy’s money for this?”

My thoughts kept circling around Zinnia, and I kept pushing those thoughts away. Suddenly, a poem popped into my head; In my head, I am fighting fire with fire. The flames are getting bigger and brighter. I can hear it crashing. I can feel it burning. I am tossing, and I am turning. I am burning, and I am screaming. I am crying out for help. Why are they not putting the fire out? They are making it bigger. It is burning faster. I can feel it spreading through my body. Why are they making it worse?

My dress slid dangerously high as he rolled his hips into mine, the friction sending fire licking through my veins. My fingers curled into his shoulders, barely holding on as he spun me, dipped me, and pulled me back with a force that stole the breath from my lungs. Oh my God. I was drowning. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew people were watching. I knew the room still existed. But it felt unreal now. The only thing that felt real was him. Then, the chorus hit. "I'd let the world burn Let the world burn for you This is how it always had to end

I think nothing I didn't take over the world I am not miss beauty Hell, I am not miss tall She doesn't want to let anyone know But I know I can see it in her eyes The hatred burns like fire Fire that was provoked The fire can't be put out Because its hidden from view Not everyone can see it But I see it leaking out From her hers, blazing. It threatens to scorch me in it. But she forgot one thing. I am the water that quenches all fire Fire runs away from me Because I put off everything in my path Nothing can stop me. Nothing can move me I'm unmovable, undefeatable. Let her try and see. CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

And as the sky's falling down It crashed into this lonely town And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out I see fire Inside the mountain I see fire Burning the trees I see fire Hollering souls And I see fire Blood in the breeze I see fire Oh you know I saw the city burning I see fire Feel the heat upon my skin yeah Now I see fire Oh oh oh oh oh oh And I see fire burn auburn up on the mountain side

he scoops me up, carries me out, water still dripping off us both and i know, i know, tomorrow everything burns but tonight tonight im his and thats enough

He said. “Hmm…” I hummed as I blushed listening to him. “At that moment I was hit with inspiration and wrote a song about you. It needs more work to reach perfection but do you wanna hear it?” he asked me. “Okay,” I said excitedly. “What’s the title?” I asked him. “It’s called, ‘You are my FLAME’.” He answered with a smile watching me getting all excited. “What does that mean?” “Well, FLAME is an acronym. Each word denotes something.” Grabbing my hand and spreading my fingers with his.

I had never burned a day in my life, so I never even considered sunscreen, but apparently my mate had needed it. I felt horrible for not properly caring for her. “T, are you set?” I asked. “I’m great, why?” “Uh, babe, you’re burnt. I don’t mean like a little either. You are extra crispy everywhere.” When I said everywhere, I mean everywhere. Her perfect breasts were just as burnt. A hazard of floating naked. “What?” she asked and ran into the house. “No!” I heard her yell when she finally saw herself.

My imaginative and prescient blurs and the room spins. "Noah, please," I croak, my voice slightly audible. "You whore," he growls. "Two months far from me, and you’re already dozing with your ‘buddy’?" "It's not…" I attempt to explain, but the phrases catch in my throat as I choke. "Sir, please let her move!" Mary Anne’s voice cuts via the fog. Noah’s grip loosens, and I collapse to the ground, coughing violently. "She’s satisfactory," Noah snaps, his tone icy.