Novel & Cerita Icarly Cry

"It was good. Ricky sure knows how to plan a date. We're going to another one very soon." "Oh. That's good to hear. Good night, Chan." He turns around, opens the door, and leaves, closing it behind him. I stand in my quiet room. Then I breathe in sharply, exhale sharply. Trying to control whatever chills are running through me. I don't know what happens, but I start to cry. My hand covers my face. My makeup is ruined, but I don't care. Stupid girl. I fall onto my bed and bury my face in my pillow as I sob harder, not caring about the makeup stains.

“You really want to go back looking like this? Won’t your parents notice?” Candice joked weakly, “If I don’t go home, my mom won’t sleep. I have to…” Her eyes reddened again. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the sob welling in her throat. “I don’t know why I’m about to cry again. So embarrassing.” “If you want to cry, just cry. I’ve seen plenty already—one more time won’t make a difference.” “…” She blinked at him, speechless. Nearly 2 a.m.

Alaric advances on me, the wooden floorboard creaks underneath the force of his boots and he steps over the pile of ash, covering the distance between us in a blink of an eye. "I didn't mean to!" I sob out, trembling from head to toe. "I didn't mean to!" "Stop!" Alaric roars. "Just stop Kyra! Don't you dare cry over that piece of shit! Don't you dare!"

"If you're crying because the world is cruel, I'll be the shoulder. But if you're crying because of something I did... then I’ve failed. I don't want that on my record. It will be better you rather kill me instead of crying over me." I swallowed hard, the pen feeling heavy in my hand. "That's er...er...Cillian..." I nodded slowly. " I won't cry." "Please don't." He quipped with a wink, "It breaks my heart when you cry like that. I thought my heart was ripped apart when you had to cry so hard as we came home. Please don't do that to me, I can't..." He almost felt like breaking, I could see that, I stretched out my hand to hold his, "Your turn. What else?" He said trying to brighten up.

His huge frame seemed to take up all the space in my little room and the heat radiating from his shirtless form immediately dissipated the chill seeping in through the open window. “Have you been crying? What’s wrong, darling?” I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hands to remove the tears still leaking out. The last thing I wanted was to let Cary Collins see me cry. I’d prided myself on never shedding a tear in front of any of the triplets growing up and didn’t want to start now. But his careful scrutiny of my puffy, red eyes and stained cheeks told me there’d be no fooling him, even if a small mewl hadn’t escaped.

"I want to know the real Kaia—the one no one else sees." I twirl my plastic spoon through the vanilla ice cream, thinking. There are so many secrets I carry, so many pieces of myself I keep hidden. But one truth feels safe enough to share. "I never really cry." Lewis frowns. "What do you mean?" "I get sad easily," I explain, looking down at my ice cream. "But before the tears ever fall, I always feel a little better. I wipe them away and move on. It's like my body won't let me break down completely."

The thought was like a knife to the heart, twisting and turning until I could barely breathe. I’m trying, I wanted to scream. I’m trying so hard. Why is this still so difficult? But I couldn’t say any of that. Instead, I just sat there, frozen, tears streaming down my face without me even realizing it. Alaric reached out, his thumb brushing away the tears with a gentleness that made my chest ache. “That’s fine,” he said softly. “You don’t have to answer.”

"Omg! Is she crying? This is gold." "I, I can't,-" I tried to whiz out but ended up coughing making the whole thing worse. Where was Ian when you needed him most? The watch was clutched in my hand as I fisted the now-ruined dress I had on. "Carly?" The sound of a tray and glasses crashing onto the floor and the familiar sound of my name from my best friend's voice was like music to my dying ears. "Carly look at me, breathe in and out." She tried, thinking I had a panic attack until her face paled when she saw the cake icing that smudged over my lips and face.

I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Marcel scoffed, his expression defensive. "Why should I cry? I'm not crying." I raised an eyebrow, my gaze locked on his. "Your eyes are red, and they look... wet." His jaw clenched, his voice firm. "I'm not crying." "Alright then. If you say so," I smiled, my tone teasing. Marcel's expression crumpled, and he admitted, "Fine, I'm crying. Happy now?" I looked at him, surprised. "What? Why?"

“But something’s wrong with me, and it’s not funny!” Carter stepped closer, his amusement giving way to concern. “Hey, relax. I’ll help you figure this out.” “How?” Iris asked, her voice trembling. “First, you need to calm down,” Carter said gently. “Take a deep breath.” Iris tried, but the ache inside her was unbearable. She felt tears prick her eyes, and before she knew it, she was crying. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t control it.”