Homer Slow Smile Novels & Stories

he blurts out, and I smile against his chest. I release him from the hug and smile at him. And even though it’s real life, I'm experiencing everything at this moment. I decide to store it in my head. In slow motion. Slo-mo always makes everything better. “To the horse” I say, grabbing his hands in mine and stretching my free hand forward, charging to the door. Jim doesn’t say anything, he’s just smiling, and I understand why. If I had myself a me, I would have been smiling nonstop too.

Then he smiled and his eyes slowly closed. *

he utters with a zealous smile. ****tbc**** Note: Just a cameo.

Kim said with an apologetic smile which he shrugged off with a wave of his hand. "Thomas Waterson". "No way Tommy?".

"If I may ask, what's your name?" Gosh, he talks a lot. Having had enough of him I stand up gathering my things and look for somewhere else to seat. I hear footsteps behind me. Quickly I turn around and slam! I thought I hit a wall but no, it was that stupid annoying boy that wouldn't let me be. For the first time since our conversation, I have a proper look at his face. "Hi," he smiles at me rubbing slow circles up and down my arms steadying me. His smile makes me want to, smile. Is that even possible?.

Smiled slowly. “Your worst nightmare.”

he said at some point, watching me with a small smile. I raised a brow. “Is that a good thing?” “Yes,” he said simply, no hesitation, no overthinking, just certainty. And that certainty… It was comforting. Safe. Easy. The kind of feeling I had always told myself I wanted. No tension. No confusion. No guilt. Just… simple. “So,” he continued, resting back slightly, “are you enjoying yourself, or are you just being polite because your mother is expecting a good report?” I laughed. “I’m actually enjoying myself,” I admitted, and for once… I wasn’t lying.

Beta Homer was at the other end of the table, his expression cheerful and determined. “I thought you might be hungry,” he said smoothly. “And I wanted to make up for all the ways I hurt you before.” I blinked. I knew what he was doing. And yet, as much as I wanted to shut him down completely, a part of me respected the effort. He wasn’t forcing me—he was trying. So, against my better judgment, I sat down. I’m hungry anyway. Homer smiled, an ember of victory ignited in his eyes. But before he could say anything more, the scent of another familiar presence filled the room.

His smile sharpened, slow and dangerous. “Well, well. The game just got interesting.”

“What, am I not allowed to be happy?” “You are,” he replied, narrowing his eyes like a sitcom dad, “right after you explain why you’re happy. Until then—it’s suspicious.” “It’s not for you to know,” she said flatly, but Harold caught that telltale smirk sneaking onto her face. Ah, that smile—he knew exactly what that meant. “How many rounds did you make last night?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows like a sitcom uncle. Her smile froze mid-air, and just like that—boom—her face turned the color of a ripe tomato.