Colonel H Stinkmeaner の小説・ストーリー

The smell makes its way right up to my nostrils, making me gag uncontrollably. They're gone. It's almost over… Almost over. I remind myself. Knowing that Stacks still has to be dealt with, seeing how he's the one who's at fault for this whole mess to begin with. I gently shake Brixton's shoulders to get him to move his heavy body off of me, needing to get my back off of the cold ground and the sharp, uncomfortable stick that's poking into my spine. But he doesn't respond. He remains motionless on top of me. "Brixton?"

~Tate’s Point of View~ “This place reeks,” I whisper, irritated. It’s been far too long already that I’ve been stuck with Megan, and I’m eager to cut out her tongue. “Smells like real men,” she taunts, licking her lips. *If real men smell like armpits and cigarettes,* Colt whines, turning up his nose.

I choose my safety and sanity over my demise. “In that case,” Alpha Rogan stepped out. “I propose to take the rejected mate as mine.” “You don’t have to, Rogan,” Alpha Colten sneered like an enraged beast about to devour its meal. “Not under my watch, Rogan, will you feed on my vomit.” Alpha Alfred stepped out. Alpha Colten looked at him like he was an equal. Maybe, he’s an equal indeed. “Not you, Frost!” Alpha Colten growled with the snare of a tiger about to pounce.

“I remember that you were voted one of the top ten most eligible bachelors of Singapore. 1.8m tall, 32 years old, and a brilliant academic at a top university.” I blushed, not being used to flattery. Where is this leading? “You have unique abilities, Dr. Jin.” “Call me Ant, please. I insist.” I looked intently at the Colonel. It seems I am not going to shake him off easily. “What do you want, Colonel?” “Ant, you mean what I desperately need?” I realized the Colonel had wrapped his hand over his fist. “What happened?” “There’s been an incident.” “What incident?” I asked. The tension on the Colonel’s face baited me on.

She stepped inside, setting her suitcase at the edge of the bed before turning to thank Hastan. Even from a distance, his very presence commanded posture. Lieutenant Colonel Hastan Maheswara—in his early thirties—bore a physique that seemed carved for military authority: tall, broad-shouldered, a frame that filled out the sharp lines of his green uniform, and a spine that had never known defeat. His stride was steady, precise, as though every click of his boots followed an unseen command.

added one of the soldiers. The colonel's eyes squinted. Suddenly he felt itchy on his arms and legs. Without further ado, he swiped the crawling creature with his hand, cursing. It fell down on the floor, moved, and tried to fly away but the Colonel was swift. He stumped on it, flattening it with his boot, its fluid oozed out under his sole. Feeling triumphant, he ordered his men. “OK, let's get on with it.”

Stink shrugging, "You act like I didn’t clean up after. Look, the cushions ain’t even sticky." I scream, "...Stephen!" Stink sighs, "My bad, my bad! I just figured you’d be out late. You are always out late on Fridays. Me and the homies needed a spot to chill, that’s all." I scoff, “ FYI, you must have me confused with someone else because I never stay out late, and actually, it is late, almost 2 am. Chill? That's what we callin’ it now? You had a girl in my silk robe, sipping on my Simply Peach juice, and, was that my lavender honey body oil all over the floor?!"