Cracked Bleeding Knuckles Novels & Stories

I lied that we are in love because I thought you were also in love with me. Fuck! I yelled, slashing my hands across the table which was stocked with varieties of stuff. My knuckles bled because I had curled into a fist and used it negatively. A bleeding knuckle is kind of better than a broken heart, limb, or ankle. I'll just have to take my bath and brush my teeth and await this old foolish man for any of his stupid reasons he did have to call me over. *** I tried walking out of my room with my determination on something.

"What's wrong, Madam Radella?" "Is it true ... that Keaton has leukemia like your grandmother?" "Yeah, why?" He asked again, his face a little tense. I'm also confused about expressing what's on my mind. "What happened, how is my nephew?" he asked quietly. "What are the characteristics of this disease?" I don't know why I want to know because I'm really worried. "They look weak, they often bleed from the nose, and their hair falls out because of the heat on their body," he said; I was increasingly confused about the blood on the nose. If the hair falls out, it is said that there is a lack of vitamins.

My ribs bent inward and then snapped outward again, my whole body convulsing. My fingers curled in on themselves, nails lengthening into claws that split the skin at their base. My legs shook before twisting unnaturally, the joints breaking and reforming with loud, sickening pops. I dropped to my knees, my teeth grinding against one another until they pushed out into sharp fangs.

Artemy My knuckles cracked when my fist made contact with his face. The sound was deafening in the silent room. I didn’t feel anything, and the poor bastard at the receiving end of my furious fist was whimpering in pain. When I pulled away and sat down on the chair, he looked at me through swollen eyes. His cracked lips were bleeding profusely, and his cheeks were red and oozing with blood from several cuts. They weren’t deep, but they were enough to cause him blinding pain.

RAVEN. The shower was hot. Scalding hot. I stood under the spray until the bathroom filled with steam, clouding the mirror and turning the air thick. I watched the water swirl down the drain. It was pink. I touched my nose. The bleeding had stopped, but it was tender. My knuckles were swollen, throbbing in time with my heartbeat. My knees were bruised purple from hitting the mat. I looked like I had been in a car wreck. "Clean up," Dominic had said.

He goes about it slowly, each step deliberate, unlike the previous times he’s patched me up. He’s trying to collect his thoughts, I realize with a start. By focusing on something that keeps his hands occupied. “How bad it is?” I ask, my voice raspy in the silence “Thoroughly broken,” Zen says, his own voice quiet “The bones of the palm are misaligned, I think the knuckles might be fractured. Your fingers are fine. It might heal without permanent damage, but there’s an off chance otherwise.” My brows go up “You sound like a doctor, you know.”

he insisted while his gaze dropped back down to my swollen lips. I gently grabbed his right wrist and I pulled his bruised hand up so I could inspect the fresh bandages I wrapped around his knuckles. The white gauze was already stained with a few spots of dark red blood but the cuts seemed to be holding together without needing medical stitches. "You are going to have to soak this hand in warm water and Epsom salts tonight or your joints will stiffen up by tomorrow morning," I instructed him while sliding back into my comfortable nursing mode. "I can survive a little bit of knuckle pain," Kyle dismissed my medical advice with a careless shrug of his broad shoulders.

His knuckles were swollen. “D, let’s go to the hospital” she pleaded. She couldn’t bear to see him in pain. “It’s okay, you should have seen my friend” he said arrogantly. If he knew this is a sure way to receive some concern from Celine, he shouldn’t have fought so hard in the past. “Your friend? Were you involved in any fight?” she asked in confusion. “No babe, it was a friendly match. I was just letting off some steam” “I wasn’t in a good shape so I got hit a few times”

The blood kept on oozing from his knuckles but he didn't pay any attention to it! “What the hell have you done?” Zadkiel’s thunderous roar brought Arkael back to his right senses. Leaning lazily under the shower with his eyes still closed, he mumbled, “...I'm fine.” “What the f*ck Arky?” Zadkiel yelled, annoyed but his eyes were full of worry towards the man. He eyed Arkael up and down tracing every part of him and his gaze stopped midway on his bleeding knuckles.

With a sudden, violent movement, his fingers clenched into a fist. Crack. The sound echoed in my chest. He didn’t just break the card—he crushed it with so much force that his own skin split open. Blood dripped from his palm, bright red drops staining the cold pavement beneath him.