Drawn To The Bitter Novels & Stories

The taste of bitterness lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. I pushed the tray aside, my hunger momentarily forgotten. There were battles to be fought, both within and without. And I would gather every ounce of strength, every flicker of resilience, to reclaim my rightful place and bring about a new dawn for my kingdom. But for now, in this dimly lit room, I was left to wrestle with my hunger and the bitter taste of defeat that still lingered on my lips.

However, who is the child’s father? Chris got into one of his sports cars and drove to the closest club in the hopes of drowning his sorrows in alcohol and forgetting all that had happened. But how can one forget it all when the villain is the woman sleeping next to them? A single tear slipped as he continued to drink. With so much anger, he gulped down the whole bottle of his favorite poison. Today, however, it felt like the poison tasted like shitty coffee. It did not have any flavor at all. It was only bitterness that could be tasted, just like what was happening in his life. Bitter. He was currently having a bitter life. A woman has now worsened the hate relationship Chris had with his b

While I was thinking about what she was talking about, she was saying the same thing. "You are solid now. But then, as time passes. As time go on, you're slowly turning into liquid. Like the way it was before." I gulp again, not liking what Im thinkig and feeling anymore. I reached for the spoon, and took a bite of the salad. When it touches my tongue it tasted sweet, but what I feel right now is bitterness. It's bitter. I feel bitter because of what Gina says. "You can't fall in love with anyone. Because in the end you'll marry another man, not the man you love." she said seriously then licked the finger that was covered with milk.

“A little bitter. But sometimes bitterness leaves the most lasting impression, doesn’t it?” The words slipped from my hand like silk, but every syllable dripped with venom. I saw it land. Saw the flicker in his eyes, the flare of recognition. He knew I was taunting him. But in front of his court, in front of his people, he could do nothing. “Well,” he said after a beat, forcing a chuckle. “I do prefer a little bite.” Laughter from the table followed, sycophantic and hollow. I tasted none of the food on my plate, but I chewed anyway, slow and measured. One bite for the part of me that died when he took me.

Drake didn’t answer her and held her hand, who was hugging him. “Some chocolates are filled with sweetness. some are balanced, but some are bitter because there is no sugar added. But do you know where they all came from? They all came from bitterness. One's life isn’t a life if he doesn’t experience the bitterness of living. Still, just like chocolate, there would be a time when it would expire. We can do nothing but accept that fact and move on.” Kianna keeps silent. She was surprised to hear Drake say those words. It isn’t like him to use such words. Still, his words help her think in a positive way.

I insisted, although it wasn’t strong. “It seems to me you’re ready. You just don’t want to accept your new nature. You’ve accepted the sweetness that comes with it, but you refuse to accept the bitterness. Now, that’s not fair, but I will inform you that the bitterness of being a vampire is actually sweet.

A devilish smirk curled my lips – a manifestation of my growing determination. “Oh, Brittany. You will be my next masterpiece, my next target!” My fingers tingle with anticipation, itching to craft my revenge. I had suffered enough at the hands of the Davis family, endured their cruelty, and masked my pain for far too long. Now it was time to take control, to dismantle their lives in subtle, vindictive ways. I would strike at their core, dismantle their happiness as they had once shattered mine.

Now that I looked at the envelope, it really was addressed to me, Skylar Anderson. Focusing on the paper, I started reading the words imprinted on it. Meet me behind Chriswood Street after midnight. - B.M I read those same words twice, a confused look forming on my face. Those were the only words written on that entire paper. What was that even supposed to mean? I didn't know who B.M was supposed to be, and even if I had heard about the Chriswood Street, I knew how much sketchy that place could be around midnights.

He wanted to see her in soft or bright colors, with a sparkle in her eyes, not dull and lifeless. “It suits you,” he said, in a low, almost cruel voice. He didn’t know why he said that; it wasn’t his intention. After all, he wanted her like this. Broken. Dull. That had been the goal from the start, but as he looked at her, so withered and lifeless, he realized something he hadn’t expected to feel. There was no victory in seeing her that way. No joy, no pleasure. Just a bitter weight in his chest.

I swallow another bitter sip of coffee, closing my eyes a little as the bitterness washes my throat all the way down. Damn it! I can't take another sip. I pour the remaining water into the sink and start dragging my feet out. "Is it too bitter for your liking?" Oh, this, BITCH! "What do you care?" I snap, turning slowly to look at her ugly face. That's according to my hatred for her, though.