I Didn T Ask Novels & Stories

How do I even ask him something without feeling awkward? “Ummm,” I nervously cleared my throat, successfully getting his attention. “If you don’t mind me asking. Can you tell me about yourself?” I asked, trying my best to not stutter, but my shaky voice gave me away. “You don’t know anything about me, do you?” He asked after a minute of silence, and I shook my head in denial. “What do you want to know?” He asked, thankfully, without sounding pissed off at my lack of knowledge regarding his existence. His voice alone was enough to make my body react in a shudder.

"How's that arm of yours? Did it heal fully yet?" "Yeah, it's all good. But how did you know about my arm?" Type ask in confusion.

Cold. "Where have you been?" I said nothing, my hand on the knob. Minutes passed and nothing left my mouth. "I asked a question?" He snarled. I twirled around in anger. This was it. He was definitely asking for it. He was the one with the woman few hours ago and now he was pissed I had left the house without telling him I was fucking leaving? "And in what dictionary was it written that if one asks a question, another must answer?" I asked, cocking a brow.

I needed answers, even if it hurt, even if it meant facing a truth I didn’t want to hear. I took a deep breath and, with a trembling voice, asked: “Dante… you don’t have anything to do with the disappearances, do you?” And there, in the silence, I noticed the surprise in his eyes at the question. Yes, it wasn’t easy to ask, but something inside me told me I had to.

He teased. “Don’t play with me. I’m not joking.” I said putting on a serious look. “Well, you never asked.” He answered nonchalantly. “How was I supposed to ask if it had never crossed my mind?” I asked back. “Now you know.” He said. “I see.. is there any other thing about that I need to know?” I asked. “Why so interested now? When I wanted you to get to know me, you clearly said you weren’t interested.” He said.

I said quickly before she could even ask. She let out a lighthearted chuckle. “You already knew I was going to ask that?” “Uh huh.” I nodded my head, “That's because you always give me that smile before you ask.” “Alright. So, why don't you have a girlfriend, Tate?” I groaned. “Ugh, not this again, Mom. We've talked about this, like a thousand times. It's because I don't want to. Is that so hard for you to understand?”

willingly. “Please?” I ask again. Damn it. I was pathetic, wasn't I? I held my breath, waiting for his response.

"Oh God, I'm sorry." He didn't move. "But you know the thing I don't get? Why you didn't just ask. Ask me if I was seeing someone else. You know I'd never lie to you, so you've got to know I would've told you. So why didn't you ask me? I don't get it." I dropped my head into my hands and cringed. "Or do I?" "Oh God..."

"How are you doing with all of this? Not the strategy. You." I looked at him. It was the kind of question I had not been asked very much in my life. Damien had never asked it. Not once in six years had he sat across from me and asked, with genuine interest, how I was doing. The question had always seemed to me, in its absence, like a kind of luxury — the thing that people who were loved asked and answered freely, and that I had learned to live without. "I'm fine," I said. "That's not what I asked," Lucas said quietly.

Maybe I didn’t want you to leave me all by myself. My heart skipped another beat. -Why didn’t you ask me to stay?- -Would you have stayed if I’d asked. You’d made a promise to Allison.- -I would have, Saïda. I would have come up with something.- -If you say so...- -You miss me?- I dared to ask, smiling to myself. -Unfortunately, Yes 😪😑...- -Finally you admit it 😁. I hope you’ll jump on me immediately I return.-