Fingers Twitching Uncontrollably Novels & Stories

My eyes grow wide, the shock is only at myself. My hands shake uncontrollably, and when I look down at them, my skin is discolored. I gasp and see my nails are long and pointy. When I run a finger over my arm, it's scaly and itches a hundred times more than before. My eyes blink heavily and then out of nowhere, my hands and skin are back to normal. I keep shaking myself out, unsure what is happening.

They were a gallery of shadows, each one mentally preparing to take what the man before them was currently carving out. The friction and the sheer intensity of his focus began to pull a reaction from my body that I couldn't control. My muscles began to twitch, my internal walls clamping down around him in a desperate, involuntary rhythm. I started to shake violently, the pleasure spiking into something that felt more like a total system overload. The stark lighting of the room seemed to flicker as my head thrashed against the silk.

The response should be simple, brutal, and proportionate. But I’m not cold. I’m feeling abnormally unrestrained. A tremor starts in my hand, a faint, unfamiliar vibration I can’t still. I stare at my own fingers as if they belong to a stranger. For forty-five years, my body has been a weapon under my absolute command. It does not tremble. It does not hesitate. It acts. It bends to my will no matter the situation. And yet, here it is. A flicker of chaos in the bedrock of my control.

My mouth goes dry, and I sit up straighter. Nothing else happens for a long minute, and I am about to chalk it up to wishful thinking when his hand moves again, this time with a full spasm. The monitors spike, and the numbers skip up, then settle. His eyelids twitch, shudder, then flutter open. At first, the eyes are glassy and unfocused.

I can't keep my control over things I don't know about! I grab another glass and pour a generous serving of whisky before knocking it back. I focus on the burn churning in my belly. I need to focus and get my answers soon. I can feel my hands start to shake. A sure sign I'm losing control. But I refuse to lose my control! I'm always in control! I'm the one with all the power! I'm going to take it back from him.

My heart slams once, hard, like it’s answering back. I stumble back from the chair, breathing ragged. The shaking is uncontrollable now, the sweat rolling down my temple cold as ice. I drag a hand down my face, but the tremor doesn’t stop. Something’s wrong. I know that much. I lift my head and stare at the ceiling, trying to ground myself but all I see are flashes of her eyes. It fucks me up more. My heart won’t slow down.

My whole body trembles, a low, uncontrollable shudder that seems to resonate down to my very bones. Lance sits on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, the muscles in his back coiled tight, each ridge standing out starkly in the dim light. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, fingers flexing as if he's trying to grasp the weight of his mistake.

I pushed with everything I had, but he didn't even stumble. I realized I wasn't strong anymore. The sickness had eaten me alive. My hands started to shake. Violent, uncontrollable tremors started in my fingers and traveled up my arms. I felt like I was suffocating. The room was spinning. His scent was everywhere, choking me, making me want to vomit. I pointed a shaking finger at his face. I couldn't even keep it steady. "Don't you dare," I wheezed, tears blurring my vision. "Don't you dare touch me after what you did."

My fingers fisted thorny vines, twitching with the desire to stop my feet. Stop walking. Stop moving. Please! Just stop! I tried to shout, but every call for help was swallowed, only a sharp noise of discomfort emitting from my lips. "H…help…" I murmured, barely even a whisper. I couldn't speak any louder. Why couldn't I control my limbs? My muscles tightened to the point of tetanus-like stiffness. Agony shot through me and I wanted to wail as every joint locked. Pulling me closer and closer to something I didn't understand,

Thalia I fidgeted, biting my finger, a habit I have and can’t stop especially when I am anxious. Right now, I was beyond nervous. I could practically feel my heart beating fast against my chest. We tried. We talked for hours but nothing seemed to work so now, we were calling her aunt and waiting for her to take her call.