Chord Too Much To Ask Novels & Stories

"That's the spark I want. Come on, baby. Show me what else you've got." "You asked for it."

I thought about the specific quality of a request that has been made once and kept without using it as leverage, that has been present in the room every day for eleven years and has never once required acknowledgement or management, that has simply been there the way the bond has been there, not asking anything of the person it was extended toward except the ordinary daily practice of being who they are. "Ask," I said. He looked at me, the full weight of the look that had never become ordinary in eleven years of being the subject of it. "Another twenty," he said. "After the first." "Yes," I said. He looked at the city. "Thank you," he said. "You do not need to thank me," I said. "You asked.

[Cherry] "You're asking for too much, I've given you fucking enough, what else do you want me to do. You can't be doing this, you helped me out but you're trying to make me go practically insane," my jaw clenched tightly as I told the person on the other side of the phone How the fuck were they trying to make me go insane? I've fucking given and given. Haven't I done enough? Were they the first people to fucking help people out

This would be the 99th apology. Once, I used to hope each one would be the last. No more; I no longer hoped for anything. Leaving the jewelry store, I received a phone call. "Ms. Holt, I'm sorry to bother you again. We're willing to raise the annual salary to one million dollars. Would you consider joining us as the Design Director?" It was the third time the famous Ularian jewelry company had reached out. I had turned them down before, but this time, I said yes.

He gave me an icy look, his eyes filled with warning, as though telling me that I would be crossing the line if I asked any more questions. As he hugged me from behind, his arms seemed to constrict around me like steel bands. His warm breath tickled my ear, yet his voice was frosty as he said, "Lily, I already said to end this matter. I don't want to get into a fight with you on our honeymoon night. I'll go get the tattoo removed tomorrow, alright? Now, stop talking and sleep." I shut my eyes, worried that my tears would slip out before I could stop them if I was even just a second slower.

But a long exhale calls for a deep inhale, and his scent is all that fills me. “Christopher, don’t you think you are asking too much from me?"

“How many questions will you ask me?” “Not many.” He replied evasively. “I don’t think I want to play. You get to ask as many questions as you want, but I am restricted to only three.” I had no idea what to ask him, but my sense of equality was making me dig in my heels when all I wanted was to say yes and go along with everything he said. The urge was so powerful, tears rushed to my eyes when I defied it and played hardball instead.

“Was it from you? This boring question I mean.” How did he know?! I avoided his gaze, pretending ignorant. The next one who picks the question is Slyvester. After he read the question, a crack of thunderous laughter filled the space. “Damn it, Vincent!” he laughed. “I know that your life revolves around music but was it necessary to put this as your question?” I peeked at the question sheet in his hand. ‘What are the guitar chords for the song ‘New York’ by Frank Sinatra?” Vincent swept his hair and then sat straight. He is handsome, but a little bit weirdo.

His eyes follow my every movement intensely, not letting anything escape his scrutiny. “Harder…” I finally whine loudly, flinging my head side to side in desperation, “oh gods please…” i feel myself lose my hold on reality, “Faster…please…” it comes out as a sob, as I plead. The need to reach that crescendo- that high point when I can go higher no more and just explode into a thousand little pieces is unbearable. Dominicus lets out a dark, airy chuckle while grunting slightly. But he gives me exactly what I ask for.

Terence was relieved to hear that Winona didn't sound upset. He entered the house and was about to open the door to the living room when he heard her words. They made him freeze. "Ten billion dollars is all I ask for, Mr. Ford Senior. This time, I swear I'll leave without a fight, and I'll never return. You know your grandson is head over heels for me, right? "He's going to fake his death tonight and take me away if you don't give me what I want. The Ford family will be out of an heir if that happens—that's a way more significant loss than ten billion dollars, don't you think?"