I Want To Eat Your Pancreas นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I started everything with his instructions as I added some dumplings, shrimps and spaghetti along with the vegetable that I like. “What do you want to eat?” I asked him enthusiastically as I liked what I was doing. “I’ll eat whatever you would give me.” He said as he kissed every feature of my face as his lips dwelled up into a smile. “I can starve you too then.” I bit my lip in order to hide my smile. “Fine. I’ll have you for dinner then.” He smirked with glint in his eyes. “I am too sweet for you. You can get diabetes.” I said trying to act reasonable.

I thanked him while keeping my expression in check. Luceethe, the meat in front of you is not a lycan! It's beef! You can eat it! You enjoy eating hamburgers! It's the same! I can do it! I gulped my saliva in while I tried to brainwash myself into eating something I couldn't. And to end my suffering fast, I gulped down the steak without properly chewing it. A bead of tears has a peek at the corner of my eyes as I really feel like dying.

We could run around the block if you prefer not to use the treadmill. I held up a hand, a universal sign for halt. ‘What, five a.m.? Are you a sadist? No, thank you.’ I turned my attention back to demolishing the small, perfect mountain of pancakes. The syrup was real maple, the butter was French, and the guilt was starting to creep in. Here I was, shovelling down culinary sin while he nibbled on what looked like dehydrated beige cardboard. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of my own eating habits. Did I look like a greedy pig? Was there syrup on my chin? Had I eaten one slice of bacon too many?

Parang may something sa loob ng katawan ko na s'ya palang ang nagparamdan. "Kaya kita inaya dito kasi gusto ko 'tong gawin bago ako mawala sa mundo. Kasama ang pagkain ng marami sa dying list ko. I want to eat like a king. Yung bigla nalang akong mapapagod sa kabusugan. Yung mapapadighay nalang ako at masasabi kong worth it ang paglaki ng t'yan ko." wika n'ya saka muling kumain.

After a long while, she couldn’t take it anymore and glanced up at him, “am I eating too much? Why have you been staring at me?” “How will you feel going to Panama?” he asked.

Max quickly consoles me, “Ellie, what’s wrong?” “I just haven’t burned anything in years. I feel stupid for getting distracted. I will still eat it,” I explain. “No,” Max says. He grabs the pan and dumps it. Turning back to me, Max says, “We can go out or order in. Which would you prefer?”

His taste in food is so odd, I looked at that food if any one of them is edible, but after eating only porridge for two days, I feel like craving delicacies, something spicy like pizza, pasta, instant noodles, or anything like pancakes, but not this at least. There was a plate in the middle of that table that was covered, he looked at me before removing the lid, I don't know what that was but based on all these dishes it will also be another blunt spice less and disastrous dish. Looking at my facial expressions, he pulled out the outer lid of the plate, but just the smell of that dish made my day, I jolted to look at that, "Pancakes...!" I don't have anything to say, I grabbed that plate ins

“Why don’t you get both?” “I can’t eat both.” “I think you can.” I’d seen her inhale a whole stack of pancakes first thing in the morning. “If we really are going to end up in a broom closet, I should stick with the salad.” I tried not to smirk. “It’s not going to make a difference.” “But my stomach gets all puffy when I eat pasta.” “I’ve never noticed.” She looked at me over the top of her menu. “That’s very gentlemanly of you to say.”

I dug in instantly, piling maple syrup on the pancakes and shoving bites into my mouth like I hadn’t eaten in days. “Wow… I never knew you were so hungry,” Adrian muttered. I froze. Apparently, my brain had gone on vacation, because I totally forgot he was in the car with me. Slowly, I turned to look at him. My mouth was full, and there was a generous smear of maple syrup on my jaw. Okay… not just a little. I looked like a two-year-old trying to eat pancakes. My cheeks flamed. Amusement danced in his eyes. I quickly turned back to the tray, feeling like I might cry from embarrassment. But I was still hungry. I started chewing slowly, the torturous combination of hunger and shame making each

“Now you have three.” I stared at the plate. So did Poppy, but then her little face lit up. “Now it has personality.” Sebastian went back to cooking. “Thank God.” I lifted my mug and took a sip. It was perfect. I wanted one thing this morning I could hate without complications, and even the damn coffee had decided to take his side. Poppy started pouring maple syrup. I moved the bottle after three seconds. “Enough.” “I’m not done.” “Your pancreas is.”