Die With A Smile Writer Novels & Stories

Dust motes floated like restless spirits in the stale air, settling slowly on the shattered remnants of violence. Unity's body sagged, collapsing to the cold, unforgiving floor with a heavy, final thud. Her pale shirt bloomed crimson, the dark stain spreading in uneven pools, like ink spilled over a cracked canvas. Yet, even in death, there was something unsettling about her, the faintest curl of a smile lingered on her lips, a ghost of triumph, a defiance that refused to be silenced. The smile was almost cruel in its mockery, as if death itself was just another step in her relentless game.

But despite everything, despite the sadness of what she was saying, there was a bright smile on her face. Genuine. Real. Full of life. How? How could she smile like that when she knew she was dying? But then I realized—maybe that was exactly why she could smile. Because she'd accepted it. Made peace with it. Decided to find joy in whatever time she had left rather than spending it afraid and sad. I couldn't help but smile back at her, even as tears pricked at my eyes. "You're very brave," I whispered. "Papa says the same thing," she said. "But I don't feel brave. I just feel... me."

Adrian watched him for a long moment after that answer, and then, slowly, he smiled. Not a friendly smile. Not a warm smile. But the smile of someone who had just confirmed something important. “That,” Adrian said quietly, “is exactly why you are still alive.”

I repeated quietly. “For saying something, it was more than anyone else would have.” I hated that I believed her. “It doesn’t matter,” she added. A small smile played on her lips, and her green eyes glistened. “He’s dead now anyways.” Her smile widened, and I forced myself not to return it. “He is,” I agreed, looking far away. “I’m glad,” she breathed out. I nodded a bit, unsure what to say. I wouldn’t speak on his death, it was the best way to seem neutural. I didn’t want to say anything she could misinterpret or could come back to bite me.

Her eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips and back before she gave him a smirk and tasted his gorgeous perfect lips. Her kiss was slow and deliberate and Brayden just let her drive him wild with her soft slow movements. She pulled back and looked at his lips again like she really wanted to get lost in him. But instead she gave him a soft smile. “You don’t have anything to worry about,” She told him quietly. And as much as she would like to undo the signing of the Death Contract, she had to admit that being married to the hottest man alive had its perks. “Hmmm…?”

I tried to say as I stared at the brown eyes looking at me. He tsked, "It's so sad, isn't it?" He said, a wicked smile over his lips, a smile so familiar, "To die and not even know who killed you." I felt like a vibration in my chest, a little bit of pain spread from where the shot went, it was little only. His hand still over the gun, the other he held my arm and inched his face closer to my ear, "It's so iconic, isn't it? For you and your father to die at the same time." He pressed his finger over the trigger and fired again.

What he said to me exactly was: “If you left me to die, the community would have gotten a new boss who will be better than me no matter what. It was a wonderful opportunity that presented itself and you didn’t take it, why?” “Because I am a decent human being and I can watch someone die when I can do something about it.” “We don’t really have the decency thing in common.” And then I saw him smile. Mr. Pérez just told a fucking joke and I wish I got it on video or recording or anything else. Wish I got it and play it to Liam. “Thank you.” I told him he was welcome and resisted to ask that what was bring about this change and well, tell him that his dimples needed to be making more appearances

I drew away from the car I was leaning on so I could open the door for her. She flashed a smile at me, and my heart squeezed. At this rate, the hospital might become my second home. Well, that didn't sound so bad. Dying with a smile is far better than dying from a gunshot. I'm not concerned about Mafia honour or whatever, with their normal, “Live by the gun, die by the gun.” Not me. I would rather die smiling, and full of love from Lylah. She slid into the car and I closed it before going around it to get in. She had already put on her seatbelt when I joined her.

She spent every day holding our family photo, sitting there hour after hour. Seven days after David died, the police retrieved his body from the river. It was disfigured from soaking in the water. Strangely, though, the smile on his face looked exactly like the smiles Martha and Ivy had when they died. The police thought it was bizarre. Drowning was supposed to be painful, so the body would normally show signs of agony. How could his final expression be a smile? When Linda saw David's body, she finally shed tears. She wiped her eyes and then started laughing uncontrollably.

The words barely escaped his lips. Another soldier tried grabbing him. He shoved the man away. Still staring. Still walking. Toward nothing. Toward empty darkness. Then he smiled. The same smile. My stomach dropped. "No!" I lunged forward. But it happened too fast. The soldier's body jerked violently. Like invisible hooks had pierced his flesh. Then he collapsed. Dead. Instantly dead. The smile remained frozen on his face. Silence filled the plaza. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The remaining soldiers stared in horror.