Novel & Cerita I Shall Call Him Squishy

He shrugged. Hmmm. “Well then, let’s get the name started, Pookie.” I muffled. His hands clasped over his face, “Oh, Lila, please…Don’t call me Pookie.” He begged. “If only you promise not to call me, Cupcake…Can you do that, Pookie?” I asked sweetly. “On a second thought, Pookie doesn’t sound too bad, just don’t do it in public.” He affirmed and I could not hold back my laugh.

Quinn eventually asked, leaning forward and poking me in the cheek, "or am I boring Trigger Happy Suzie?" I playfully growled with a roll of my eyes, "I really hate that name. You know the cub started calling me that. You're a bad influence." "Me," Quinn batted her long lashes in a show of innocence, "a bad influence? I think you've got me mixed up with someone else." "I don't think I do," I grumbled, yanking the phone out of her hands so I could see the different flower arrangements she had been looking at, "do you guys even have a date set, or are you just looking through these for the fun of it?"

His cool, clear eyes held no softness—instead, they carried an almost otherworldly elegance. He turned at the sound of my footsteps. Our eyes met, and I felt my cheeks grow warm. Samuel stood and smiled, extending his hand. "Hello, Elena. I'm Samuel Reyes." I reached out and shook it. He blinked, his upturned eyes softening with a gentle warmth. My mother, watching us, couldn't help but laugh. "How long are you two planning to stare at each other?" I quickly let go, coughing lightly to hide my embarrassment.

Eli called and I glared at him. "Your anger is starting to get worse," Carter said with a cheeky grin. "You could do with seeing Dr Hayfield." "Shut your mouth, Carter," I said lightheartedly and kicked my shoes off, flicking them up in the air so they hit Oli and Erik who were lying on the floor also playing Xbox. "Oi, I will shove this shoe up your ass if you make me lose, Daisy!" Oli warned and I laughed at his dedicated to video games. He once threw a pizza at Jack when he beat him in Mario Kart.

He explained to the young man. “Yes, sir!” he greeted again. “By the way, why don't you cut your curly hair yet?” Eros grabbed his head and straightened his curly hair. “It was really curly when i was born, sir.” He replied. “Okay, just let it go. Just what i'm reminding you, don't ever forget.” “Yes, sir!” “And by the way, don't call me sir. Maybe someone a villain might hear you.” “Yes, si— what do you want me to call you?”

My brows arched as I stared at him. Seeing that my grip on him had loosened, he swiftly pulled his hand out of my grip and turned on his heels. He was going to walk out, but instinctively, I gripped him again, and this time, I didn't hesitate to lean forward and kiss him deeply on his lips. He instantly held my shoulders and pulled me away from himself. His eyes filled with yearning just like mine. “What are you doing, Squishy?” He finally said the name, his breaths heavy and ragged.

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It grabs onto his hair tightly. I cover my mouth, giggling at the sight. “I didn’t know you had a second job as a woodland princess,” “Oh my goodness,” he sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Now she calls me a princess,” as soon as he says those words, a small sparrow lands on his shoulder. “Mommy look!” A kid beside us yells excitedly. “Can I go play with the squirrel man?!” “Squirrel man?!” Vincent chokes out. He gets to his feet, gently pushing the squirrels off him. “Hey, kid! Who are you calling squirrel man?!”

“Hey, Lucy! Your attention’s urgently needed over here!” “Excuse me,” I said politely, “I have more important things to attend to.” “Of course,” Clara replied, her smile tightening again. “See you around, Lucy.” “Sure,” I said, returning a polite nod before walking away, my heels clicking sharply against the floor. Once I was out of their sight, Susan nudged me. “So what was that about?” “Just an old ghost trying to resurrect himself,” I muttered. She snorted. “Then let’s make sure he stays buried.”

“If you like say, Non, Ani. The answer is still... Yes, you do. A baby lion who lost his toy.” I pulled back, glaring. “Take that back.” “Nope.” He grinned wider, obviously enjoying himself. “You are a cub. My cub.” “Stop calling me that,” I muttered, even though my ears burned hot. He leaned closer, whispering, “Cute little cub. Little cub. Cute little cub. Can make an album out of it. Maybe I should go into music and release an EP called Cute Little Cub.” I swatted at his arm. “Micah!”