He Knew My Voice Day One Novels & Stories

The slow specific cold that started behind my sternum and moved outward in concentric rings the way a stone moves water. I knew his voice. I knew his voice from a single sentence from less than that, from the cadence of the consonants across two months of silence and an entire reassembled life, because his voice was the voice that had told me to breathe in my own living room at nine-fifty PM on a Tuesday, and a person’s body does not forget the voice that told her to breathe. I did not turn around. I want to tell you why, because the why is the part I am proudest of.

Dial that number and call him up. I hold my breath as I dial his number number and put it at my ear. I can hear it going over and being picked up. "Hello?" His deep voice send shivers all over my body. God, how I missed that voice. I can't understand how he his voice sounds like home to me after I've only known him for a week. Yet his voice makes my knees quiver, my brain swoon and my heart skip a beat. "Hello?" He repeats. "Hi." Hi?! smooth, real smooth, Kasey.

I said to them and I could guess the excitement from him because that was the first time he was hearing my voice and probably going to see me. "Yes boss." I ended the mind link and smirked. "Nice, Samantha."

I ask him. I surprise myself when I speak. These are the first words I have spoken since that day and they just happen to be to him. My voice comes out a little strained since it has been nearly a week since I said anything, but he doesn't seem to pay that much attention. "I came to check on you and I didn't want to wake your family so I snuck in." "Does anyone know you're here?" "I told-," he starts but stops abruptly. He seems to be thinking over something carefully. "Yes, it's known."

It kinda reminds me about that person again. I couldn’t remember his face, his name but I can hear his gentle voice. The voice that makes me feel that I’ve known him for a long time. It’s the voice that I’ve longed for each day and night that passes by in my life. Those are the meaningful memories that I wanted to recover. *** “What are you doing?” He asked. “Just listening to the sound of the dawn,” I said. I’m currently sitting under the tree where we first met. I smiled because I felt grateful,

I knew it! And then it hit me! I had only heard that voice for real once before. At that time, the voice was filled with distress as he called out to his father. But now, it was husky and bold. I knew who it belonged to. I knew because it was very similar to his father's. I knew because the owner of that voice was the only thing standing in my way. I knew because that voice plagued my sleep every night alongside the nightmares. I knew because it was none other than Seven's!

I felt relieved, feeling my voice stronger than before. "Speak your mind," He asked. Did my inner voice speak to him? How does he know every time? Has he studied about it or something else? "You're not telling me everything. I hope I'm not stuck in the worst place." "You would have known then," His voice was cold.

“You deserve so much, and I will never be that person.” The silence hung between us. “I know I want to spend every day getting to know you. I know what we have isn’t normal. I know I have never felt anything that could even come close to this.” His voice was strained, and I agreed with him completely. I had never felt anything similar.

Everything that allows me to do my job to the best of my ability the first time with the least amount of margin for error. By the end of the conversation, I am still going insane because I absolutely know that I know who this person is, and as I shift the fuzzy white pillow underneath me that I'm lying on, I try to place him. The voice is so familiar, I'm sure I've heard him speak recently. I feel like I should know who I'm talking to.

A voice came from the doorway. It was a voice I hadn’t heard in weeks but it was one I had burned into my soul. Kian Zephyr.