Father's Eyes Mother's Rage Book Mga Nobela at Kwento

Her voice rose with every word until it became a shrill, trembling note of rage. I wanted to turn away, to walk out, to pretend I wasn’t there, but my legs wouldn’t move. Richard’s jaw tightened; he growled, low and animal, a sound I’d never heard from him before. “Enough,” he repeated, but this time the word trembled, not from weakness, but from the weight of emotion pressing against it. I couldn’t breathe. Watching them like that, mother and son tearing into each other, felt like standing at the edge of something catastrophic.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" "Or what!" "Cage have some respect I'm your mother for crying out loud." I spoke trying to reason with him. "I know you are my mother, or do you think I don't!" He yelled snapping his grey eyes to meet mine and I regretted it, he had the same look his father had whenever he looked at me. "I know you are my mother you don't have to remind me every chance you get!" His eyes grew darker and darker with every word he uttered.

Effortlessly. For a brief moment, Their eyes met. The father saw it. Not anger, Not cruelty, Not even hatred. Just something empty. Something that had already decided the outcome long before this moment. Samuel’s grip tightened, Just slightly. The man dropped. The sound was soft, Final. The mother screamed.A raw, broken sound that filled the entire room. No-no— please.

I might end up losing my baby eyeballs for real! “This is so frustrating…” I heard from my father. My attention went back to my mama and father. My Mama is crying while helplessly looking at me. It’s making my heart ache so bad just by watching her like this. “I want to ask you something before I kill you…” Father said to her. Mama grasped her dress in her chest. She’s scared. It’s written all over her face. “And I want us alone…” He continued. He looked at me again. Those eyes of his are really scary. It feels like he can kill me with just one snap of his fingers.

They tried to adjust their eye brightness to that of…everywhere. It had been long since they opened their eyes. Being in darkness for fifteen years was not something anyone wanted to go through. Angela stood there like a statue, watching the two get up. Her father had a small white beard. He had blue eyes and deep brown hair while her mother had red eyes and blonde hair. Her red eyes were beautiful and unique. She had never seen someone with red eyes before. It was beautiful. Her mother wore a beautiful red dress. It was the most beautiful dress she ever saw. The dress matched her beautiful red eyes.

I let go of my mother's hand and clench my hands into fists, as I felt my rage building stronger than it ever had before. The heat within me was like lava, but it didn't burn me, it was feeding me it's magnificent power. I stood up and watched as my mother took her last gurgled breath. Balan then screwed his face up in disgust and pushed on my mother’s back with his other hand, my mom's body slid along his arm effortlessly. As soon as he'd pulled his hand out of the hole in her chest her body went limp and dropped to the floor in a heap.

he yelled. The rage brewing within Mateo intensified as each passing word from his father's lips struck at his core. The heat rose within him, mounting with every heartbeat, until it manifested as a fiery red hue radiating from his flushed cheeks. With an iron determination, Mateo refused to let his father's words break him. In a defiant voice weighted with desperation, he voiced his grievances, reminding his father of the sacrifices he had made and the unwavering loyalty he had demonstrated. But instead of understanding, his father responded with callous disregard, leaving Mateo with a sense of suffocating isolation.

Without mercy, a fury so deep overcame me, dimming my light and hugging me in shadows. My rage was aimed right at Draven, but just as I was going to throw everything at him, time stilled. In front of me now stood my mother, but she wasn’t alone. Beside her was a man that held the same eyes as me. I instantly recognized him for who he was– my father. My eyes watered and the fury I felt just seconds before blew out like a candle. I stood, wrapping my arms around them both, wishing either one of them could actually be here with me.

What the hell was wrong? The door clicked open. Father and son looked each other in the eye. The striking resemblance was visible enough. They both had the same honey-coloured eyes that held an intense gaze. Luca moved out of the door. “I'm not coming in,” Ferguson's voice came low. “I just want you to know that I loved your mother and that I love you. No matter how hard I am on you.” Luca's brows raised. “Are you okay fath–“