If He Had Been With Me Analysis Novels & Stories

’ I added, so there was no doubt in my friend’s mind. ‘Shit.’ ‘Yeah, that would be a good analysis, actually. Shit. Shit and more shit. Fucking shit.’ I told him with a sigh. ‘I went there with hope in my heart, but she had already gone. Hud. Gone without so much as a goodbye.’ There was a momentary pause, as if my friend was thinking. 'Erm, you want to come over and play videogames?' He offered.

If he had introduced me as a friend, it wouldn’t have hurt so much. "Aren’t you drinking anymore? If you don’t like it, I can tell her to get you something else," he spoke softly, but I wasn’t falling for it. I meant nothing to him anyway. My insecurities were right. I was just a means of satisfaction to him. I stood up, trying to walk away, but he pulled me back to the chair. "Where are you going?" he demanded. "To the restroom," I answered curtly. "I’m coming with you."

I snickered, looking ahead to see the familiar forest around us. “ You are impossible. ” He clicked his tongue and probably shook his head in disbelief too but it was not like I gave a damn. I would be a saint if I let him meet that cunning Beatrice alone. I was going to keep my eyes set on this huge mountain and smack him for the third time if he dared to let his mind stray to the wrong thoughts ever again. But, it was not the only reason why I was going with him.

“I know.” Of course he knew. He always knew before I did. “I don’t understand how he found us so fast.” He glanced at me, briefly. “He’s not working alone. Men like that never do. And they don’t stop, either.” I turned my face toward the window, the cold glass a relief against my temple. “I shouldn’t have looked back.” “It’s okay.” “No, it’s not.” My voice wavered. “Every time I think I can breathe, he’s right there. It’s like, like he’s stitched into me. Like I’ll never be free of him.”

He asked. “Yes.” I didn’t even wait for him to speak before I answered him. It felt as though I was pushed by something inside of me to say that, but it was still a great feeling after all. The smile on his face after I said I would go with him lit my mood up. If I had taken a time to think about it and what would happen if I go with him, I would have robbed myself of this feeling. I would go with him and spent as much time as I could with him. I wasn’t sure of what would happen during the late hours of the day. I expected the worse.

I was helpless with my thoughts because I couldn't get anything reasonable to think about. What if he knows about me and all that has been happening to me? If he does, does it imply that he is not terrified of me or that he is also like me? I mused to myself out of simple inquisitiveness, but I was in no way even close to arriving at a decision.

Something that felt suspiciously like hope of maybe I could give him what he wanted and maybe in the process of that I would find what I have been missing too. "Okay," I whispered, knowing he could hear me. "Three days. Then we figure this out. Together." Together, he agreed, and I felt his satisfaction like sunlight. I took Ezra, thanked the café staff, and headed home. Whatever came next, at least I would not be alone.

His friend's grin makes him shiver because of the smile he has given- I'm hopeless this bastard is crazy. "Well depend on the situation but for now I won't I will lose my aide if I will right Sturn?"- " Tsk! Good to hear that you're just kidding or else I'll abandon you as a friend." Aziz just sighs and looks at Sturn intensely. "Are you serious? Will you abandon me? " He smiled creepily, more teasingly, and Sturn was ready to react, but then his facial expression started to change. "Actually, I plan to join the Sharp" and that's the cue Sturn burst out

he continued. His eyes lit up, almost like saying out those words gave him hope. “And if you won’t come with me—fine, I have already lost enough people, all on my head, I don't want to loose another person, but if I could have just one person with me, I’d be more than glad for it be you beside me, my partner.” I didn’t answer, not right away at least. I looked at him—this man I had bled with, yelled at, carried through war, and been carried by.

“ I know I failed. I know this is my fault. You don’t have to keep reminding me. ” His failure? Yes, I have been angry at him, and I should be happy with what he is saying. But this is breaking my heart. It’s not his failure. It’s mine. I was supposed to go with him. He was angry at me the last time we talked, and I didn’t even get the chance to see him. If I had abandoned everything else, if I had just gotten over my shock, my anger, my pain… I would have been there with him.