I Want To Eat Your Pancreas Mga Nobela at Kwento

Why do you have that I want to punch you look on your face. "This is my I am hungry face, I need to eat, and you don't want to see my I want to punch you face." "What do you want to eat?" "That creamy taglaltil in pesto sauce you bought the other day for me, and pizza most importantly." "But pizza is not food." "But it Sure in hell will solve a lot of my problems." "And what are these problems, if I may ask?" "Hunger, and I am craving it like real bad."

I took some rice while looking at him and placed it in my mouth as soon as his glare got deeper. “Now tell me why didn’t you eat anything…?” He asked me. “Um… I ah… I have this habit… I can’t eat anything out of stress…” I said to him nervously. He gestured his eyes towards the plate as I didn’t continue to eat. “Continue to eat. Don’t stop if you want to get to the auditorium” He added and I sighed in frustration with a mouthful of pancake. He took a deep breath and added, “From now on… You’ll be able to eat in stress too”

Just as they confess, I tear a piece of pancake into my mouth and smile darkly. Now, this is interesting, isn’t it?

“Please! Please don’t eat me… I…I have a fatty liver!!” Before he could finish his howl, I intervened because at that moment I seemed to reach the brink of my insanity driven by my fear for life. Thus, I desperately begged him to spare me, folding my hands and bowing my head while giving any possible ridiculous excuse that came to my mind, “You won’t find me delicious to consume…and…y-you might get a bad stomachache later. T-That’s why, p-please let me go…I-I swear on my life…I…I will never tell this secret to anybody else and will carry it to my grave. I-I will leave the town if you ask me so. And…before that, I-I will go and search in hospitals to bring a s-suitable liver for you and—”

After a little while, I went downstairs to make some pancakes. I decided to watch another animated movie entitled " I Want To Eat Your Pancreas ". The first time I heard the title, I really thought it's a grossy movie or like promoting cannibalism. But after finishing the movie, it was a really good one. Spoiler: she didn't die because of her disease. Mom told me I need to wait for the garbage truck before going back to my room after lunch. It was already half past one in the afternoon when the garbage truck took our garbages. The only garbage left here is me.

He went and took his seat then served himself a little of everything. The food looked and smelled good. It was not their usual cereal, crumbled eggs, and beacon. The eggs were sunny side up and the there were more things to choose from. ‘Good huh?’ JP mind linked him. “Are there more pancakes?” asked JP seeing how his friend and alpha was eating them. “Yes, beta JP there is more.” Liza looked at Zoe who was standing on the side with the other omega.

He asked with a smile on his face. I smiled back and nodded. “Thank you, Blue.” I told him. I’ve been eating their chocolate pancakes all week coupled with their sweet milkshake. I’m getting a little diabetic the more I eat here but sweet is my weakness. I looked around and took pictures of the sceneries from where I am at this point. Everything about this place is good. I could just sit here and take great photos of whatever it is. I opened my phone to check the pictures I got from my GoPro and smiled to myself. I’m thinking of printing something when I came back home. If I go back home…

Think I'll scare you. “Why did you sell me there? I don't know English. Besides, there's a reason why I can't eat, I'm full, I can't eat anymore, please eat for me!" I used a soft voice to plead, I heard that boys like sweets, so I used this "sweet honey to kill flies" trick. If he didn't eat, he wouldn't be a man.

Panthers live in trees. Lucas carries me into a large living area which is cozily set up and he deposits me in a chair next to the small kitchen, “I have some cooked steak. I’ll heat it up for you.” My emotions which had been wildly out of control a minute ago, suddenly feel calm. But for some reason, I can tell that it’s not me. My anxiety and fear are being pressed down by something. Before I can sort out my own thoughts, he walks over to the table and puts down a plate in front of me which is piled with meat and some vegetables, “Eat.”

Roast beef, potatoes (roasted, mashed and cheesy) bread, yams, pies, cakes, chicken, pastas all laid out. “Mac, so good to see you,” Stevee smiles and hugs him. “Is it? My little Angel tells me you have been making life difficult,” Mac looks down on her with narrowed eyes, one massive hand on her shoulder. Stevee kept her smile, “Let’s eat and then talk.” “You think feeding me is going to change my mind about what I want to say,” Mac looks at her with beady eyes and a pout. “I know you think better on a full stomach, and you regret what you say less if you say with a steady blood sugar,” Stevee smiles.