I Was Five And He Was Six Novels & Stories

I said softly. “I’d like to see what you looked like as a child,” he said with a grin. “Wasn’t I a baby while you were already a young man?” I teased. He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed, while I burst into laughter. “How big is our age gap again?” I asked. “Only five years,” he replied easily. “Oh? Then how old are you now?” I pressed, smirking. “Twenty-seven,” he said proudly, which sent me into another fit of laughter. I tossed a napkin at him, hitting him square in the face. He chuckled too.

His expression was rigid with anger, and his blue eyes were burning, almost turning amber. "Well, it's important to me because they're my kids!" "Are they my pups?" He threw the question at me like a dagger, flipping the photo over to reveal the notes I had written on the back. "2014 is the date, so I wonder what makes them only five years old now," he pondered aloud. Ivik's grip on the photo tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. "Well, it's a typo error," I stammered, still trying to grasp the photo.

Sean paused to think hard. “I’m the…” Jen curled her hands into fists beside her head, forming the shape of two braids. Sean: “…” “The first time I met you, you were already eighteen, but back then, I was only… Only six. I sat on my brother-in-law’s shoulders, but still, I was only half a head taller than you. You even fed me cotton candy. Have you forgotten?” Sean’s eyes brightened. Then he said in a tone that was almost a cheer of delight. “You… You’re the six-year-old girl?”

he said proudly and has a tooth missing, okay, I think I won't mind doing this. "I'm Xania," I extended my hand for him and he shook it. "How old are you?" "I'm six," he said cutely brushing his hair away from his face, he smiled brightly and I wasn't strong enough to resist smiling too. "How old are you?" "I'm very old, twenty-two," I said and he cocked his head to the side. "You're younger than my dad." "That I am, want to play a game?" I asked him and he quickly nodded, jumping off the couch.

“I haven’t been eating properly since the day I saw you. I’m hungry for you. I want to eat you. I want to tear you down there until you’re sore and can’t walk.” His hand slipped under my shirt, about to shift my bra, when I held his hand. I sighed, shaking. “Please… I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what?" He smirked "I chose you. Be smart.” I couldn’t hold it. I had to say it as he was about to yank my bra. “Stop. I’m 31. You’re 21. If I gave birth early, I’d be your mother.” His hand froze. Someone behind him burst into laughter.

, Frankie smiled, feeding Ian the last spoonful of rice with meat on top of it. Swallowing again, he looks at the elder. "Jay?" "Yes, Jay. He's our youngest in the family.", he informed. Placing the empty bowl on the bedside table, he took the glass of water and handed it to the younger. "But i thought there were only four of you." "Six. There are six of us actually.", he stated, crossing his leg and adjusted himself on the plastic chair. Iandor’s eyes went wide for a brief moment. "Six?"

He was younger than Six, and I was pretty sure in the first five seconds he was batting for the other team. “Five.” Five? Another agent. It was odd how the ones I’d met were eerily the same, but vastly different at the same time. Five had a short cut of his brown hair, but bright blue eyes to go with his oddly bright personality. He was taller like Six and Nine, even Three, all fitting in the 5’10” to 6’2” range. Five stared at me. His eyes were wide, mouth open almost as if he was in awe. “What a pretty cat.”

I said thoughtfully and angrily. Then he stood up and approached a photo frame of me, my mother, and him in the middle. I was five years old in that picture, wearing a small shirt and blue jeans. Jones, on the other hand, was a little bit taller than me. He was seven years older than me.

" come let's go play with my ball" the five years old boy said to the beautiful six years old girl. She offers him a wide smile that shows her toothless front teeth. The little girl loves it when he ask her to play with his ball. " ok" together they went to play with other kids.

Those blue eyes from childhood were looking at me now. I closed my eyes again that day, remembering when I was a kid. I was five when Cross was sixteen, and we were eleven years apart. The little me often played by myself in the playroom that was made especially for me as my fifth birthday present from dad and Father. So many toys were all over the place, and the room looked so messy, but there was only a nanny to keep me company.