Chris X Ted Novels & Stories

He too has something with him to give him peace of mind, some memories things in the box, his lips immediately curved into a smile thinking about some memories. Xander's uncle looked at him "God, Chris is a very good and kind person but I know he lives a very plain life. Please send someone who can fill color in his life and make him happy."

“You were awfully quick to go public today.” “Mr. White said you weren’t feeling well.” Chris didn’t turn around. His tone was flat, making it clear he had come back to check on her, not to talk about anything else. Chris had lost his parents when he was seven, and Mrs. Xander Sr. had raised him herself until he enlisted at eighteen. In many ways, she knew him better than almost anyone else in the world. “What happened?” Chris by the window slowly turned around. The back of his hand brushed the bowl of oatmeal on the table. He picked it up, walked to the bed, and sat down.

Brigadier Theodore Alexander was never known to hold back when it comes to him, confronting his enemies. *** "Dang it bro! That was hot!" Chris couldn't stop grinning as he sprinted forward,quick to match steps with Theodore. On reaching beside him, Chris tried to wound his arm around Theodore's neck only for Theodore to escape his hold as he passed him a warning look. "I'm already very heated up, Chris. Believe me, you really don't want to mess with me, right now." The warning was clear in his tone. Chris was quick to catch on it as he raised his hands in surrender.

That potential was painting. Chris could paint an entire congregation of 100,000 humans a podium that looked like that of a TED talk, a speaker in action and it will look like it was a picture taken on the latest iPhone. When Grace discovered it, she encouraged him greatly. It was hard for him to believe it. “Grace, this is just what I do for hubby, it’s really simple and it’s… nothing” little Chris would say, often laughing away the genius in himself.

Edward found out Chris was from another country, and also a few years younger than him. Over a steamy dark roast, Chris told Edward about his country, his childhood, the hard work he had put in to get to this country. Their stories were similar. They were two strangers in a strange land connected by a common journey. Chris's eyes spoke to Edward as much as his lips. They grew sad when Chris spoke about how much he missed his family and his country. They showed the strain of his current job as a post-doc. They glowed with quiet pride when he spoke of his achievements, and they lit up when Chris heard Edward talk about the colorful background he came from.

I hissed, my voice all sharp edges, “I will show you a side of me no one’s ever seen. The only person who did… didn’t live to tell the tale.” Chris smirked, lips curling like he didn’t give a damn. “That won’t be necessary,” he said. “Because I quit.”

“I mean, if it wouldn’t just make things worse…” “There are ways to do it that are safe,” Chris said. “It should be fine.” “How do you know all this, anyway?” I asked. “Have you done a seance before or something?” Chris just gave me another sheepish look, and I felt my jaw drop. “Chris, when—” “I tried a few in college, okay?” he admitted, throwing his hands up in the air. “Not just seances, but ouija boards and… other things, too. My friend group back then was really into the paranormal, and you know how humans can be.”

"What?" "Sir, will it surprise you if I told you that these events happening right now is streaming live on TV as we speak?" Chris said. "I actually drove here in order to save you from the public exposure, if you didn't like it. I'm surprised I can't find any cameras or journalists here." Liam shook his head, an impressed smile on his face.

He introduced himself to Chris. As the night went on, Chris seemed amazed at how much Jackson knew about the tech world. Jackson also told him about his ideal project and how he could not support this proposal because of limited resources and cash. During their conversation, the astounded expression on Chris's face did not change, even after Jackson concluded his explanation.

A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. Miranda appeared at his side, her tone professional, but her sharp eyes carried concern. Beside her, Marcus stood, his usual composed presence steady as ever. But it was the smaller figure between them that caught Theodore’s attention. Chris. The boy’s usually bright, mischievous eyes were rimmed with red, his expression tight with emotion. He was trying to hold himself together, trying not to break in front of all these people. “She should be here,” Chris said, his voice barely above a whisper.