Freya Allan Feet Novels & Stories

Lucy wheeled me into position, gave me a look that said don’t mess this up, and left to get Freya. My heart pounded harder than it had during surgery. Footsteps sounded upstairs. Then— She appeared at the top of the staircase. Freya paused when she saw the room. Her expression didn’t light up. Didn’t soften. Didn’t melt. She just… looked. Carefully. Quietly. Like she was observing something instead of feeling it. My chest tightened. “Hi,” I said softly. She descended slowly. Each step felt like a countdown. When she reached the bottom, candlelight danced across her face—and that’s when I saw it clearly.

His appearance could be scary even though he has a good physique. He was in deep thoughts as his gaze seemed to be fixated on the moon. His arms were crossed back. After some minutes, a sly smile appeared on his lips. Freya was seated on the floor. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders as her eyes darted across the room which was empty. There was no furniture in the room, only a bed with a foam laying on it. She was putting on one heel. She was dragged roughly to this room and had lost one of her heels in the process.

Freya said under her breath as she managed to move. With all her might and groaning, she was finally able to stretch and move without feeling so much pain except for some strains. Now, she was able to study her environment. It was bushes at the left side and the right side and then a seemingly long path in the middle. But before she could move a step further, a lady dressed in bright yellow appeared before her. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her lips were as pink as baby lips, her nose was small and straight, and her eyes were lovely brown. The way her eyebrows were arched were so admirable that Freya stared at them for a long while.