Hard Outside Soft Inside Personality Novels & Stories

“The soft ones are easier to break.” I wondered who gave this man such a jaded view on life, who cast him out into the cold street. Whatever happened to him, he was still kind and generous, and I couldn’t help but find that incredibly attractive. “The soft ones are the most loyal,” I countered. “And naïve.” “If you mean trusting, yes.” “I meant naïve,” he deadpanned. “It’s not a crime to look for the best in people.” Albert grunted fromthe driver’s seat, apparently eavesdropping.

He once shared with me, "Jen, you probably can't imagine what it's like to fear that your house might be blown away during a storm, right? Having grown up in hardship, I've learned to truly cherish my loved ones and to respect my parents and elders." A wise man once said, "People who grow up in hardship often develop psychological shadows that can lead to abnormal behaviors. These issues manifest as a persistent hostility towards society and people, an inability to trust anyone, and a lack of sympathy. Being overly frugal or excessively focused on money is just a minor symptom of these deeper psychological issues. In contrast, those who are broad-minded and insightful, despite growing up und

Everything about him looks built for violence and cruelty – there is nothing there that’s sweet. When I think about fated mates, I think about mom and dad, or Aunt Cora and Uncle Roger, whose personalities seem to have been made for each other. Mom’s soft side evens out dad’s harsh edges, but still – deep down, they’re both fierce, dedicated, and loving. They even have the same weird sense of humor. This guy? He’s…he’s supposed to match me? I just stare at him, shaking my head in disbelief when he snaps his eyes up to mine.

Grace Ever since I was young, I’ve known something about myself that no one else ever noticed. I’ve always had two personalities. The gentle girl who smiled even when she didn’t want to. The one who apologized first, who endured quietly, who let people take and take without ever demanding anything in return. That was the version of me everyone knew. The version teachers praised and people called kind. The version people assumed would never hurt a fly. And then there was the other side. The cruel one.