Guantes Sin Dedos Novels & Stories

Jennifer changed the subject. "By the way, where are the gloves you said you'd give me?" Quincy cheerfully took them out. "Here. Do you like them?" The gloves were made with red wool. There were even two white deer antlers sewn on it. It was adorable. Jennifer was touched. "They're beautiful. Thank you, Quincy." Quincy blushed at Jennifer's sincerity and waved her off. "You're too kind. They're not worth much, anyway."

She says. I removed my hand from the light and what seemed to be a skeletal blueprint before, it immediately materialized the moment I removed my hand. Now, there was a shear glove over my left hand. I tried making a fist and saw micro scales moving. I even feel my knuckles hardening just enough but it was not too constricting. “You said you don’t want your knuckles to turn soft. The shell is hard, but it doesn't protect your knuckles that much so you can still keep your calluses.”

I ask carefully, and Machiv turns to me before smiling. "Of course not. Ask away." "Why do you wear gloves?" I ask, "Are you hurt?" "No, nothing like that. At least, not totally," says Machiv, and reaches up under his sleeve, clicking something, and pulling one glove off, revealing a relatively normal arm, "I wear these to stop myself from chewing my nails. It's a bad habit of mine." "Oh, I see," I say. "But why are they so long?" asks Hala, "I mean, aren't they hot?"

With a solid blink, I jerk myself from the blue sea and absorb the rest of him. He’s wearing a white, button-down shirt with the cuffs hanging loose. The top three buttons at his neck are undone displaying a bit of his chest and flawless skin. The material of the shirt stretches over his heavily muscled biceps and forearms and across his equally defined torso. He untangles his fingers from my hair and rests his hand beside my hip. His other hand is on his knee. His fingers are long and powerful. A heavy gold ring with a large black stone is on the ring finger of his right hand. A simple gold band circles his thumb. His left hand is bare. I’ve never been fond of men wearing jewelry, but on Mo

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> But Khyle blinked twice when he noticed the bluenet's hands. They were covered by a pair of thin black fingerless gloves with what appeared to be fine white bones running down the back. They were outlandish, much like that shirt he'd worn their first time out, but fitting. He could almost imagine those hands crushing through the very bones they displayed. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

Like maybe sections of his muscle were removed or torn and not properly re-attached. I look down at his ever-gloved right hand. I feel guilty about removing the soaked article of clothing, but it's not like Ryan's really going to be bothered by it in this state. I slowly pull the glove from his hand and let out a quiet gasp when I see it. The ring finger and pinky finger of his right hand are gone. Only two small stumps indicate they ever existed. His middle finger is missing the top two-thirds, amputated at the first knuckle. I take his poor, mutilated hand in both of mine and bring it to my lips, kissing it softly. I always thought his fingers were stiff and unusable, but still there. I ne

'That glove has a gadget compartment that was made to control the temperatures of the user and the temperatures around him,' Andrew stated. 'What?' Suzanne turned to him in bewilderment. 'What I don't understand is why a Rolex will need a Wintex's gadget. Obviously the ice and whatever comes from the gloves and that contact you're wearing,' Andrew continued as he looked at Aiden. 'Contacts?!' Suzanne exclaimed, looking into Aiden's silver eyes. 'Why do you need contacts, CIN? Do you have bad eyesight?' she asked further. Aiden rolled his eyes. 'Of course not. The contact is a gadget that goes with my gloves. It's like a small computerized machine that helps me to be accurate in how I aim and

"Do you even know how much this costs? You think a hundred or two covers it?" I ignored her and was about to unlock my phone when a hand gripped my wrist. Alex stared at the wallpaper. His nostrils flared, and his breath came in short, sharp pants, like a dog on the edge. Finally steadying his breath, he croaked, "Don't you get it? I don't need those roses anymore."

With a solid blink, I jerk myself from the blue sea and absorb the rest of him. He's wearing a white, button-down shirt with the cuffs hanging loose. The top three buttons at his neck are undone displaying a bit of his chest and flawless skin. The material of the shirt stretches over his heavily muscled biceps and forearms and across his equally defined torso. He untangles his fingers from my hair and rests his hand beside my hip. His other hand is on his knee. His fingers are long and powerful. A heavy gold ring with a large black stone is on the ring finger of his right hand. A simple gold band circles his thumb. His left hand is bare. I've never been fond of men wearing jewelry, but on Mo

Erkin's shadow emerged from the next room, and Li Wei's chest beat even harder. Putting the box on the showcase, Mr. Erkin spoke. "Well, the color is not very good. That's because I can't stop the coloring process when all the ingredients are mixed. But this stuff is the best fire control glove I've ever made!" More unblinking eyes stared at the contents of the box. He choked up. The gloves are brown. A little darker than the color of his skin. Red and green stripes, the remaining veins of red pea leaves, are visible on the palm of the glove.