Knuckles Crying Novels & Stories

I walked out of the meeting room, leaving behind a chorus of despair and panic. Some cried, "No, Ms. Cooper!" while others shouted, "This is all your fault, Keira!" A full-blown internal conflict had erupted, triggered by the fear of losing their paychecks. I returned to my office and locked the door. Outside, the cries, curses, and pounding on the door shook the floor like an earthquake. "Ms. Cooper, I was wrong! Please don't shut down the daycare!"

My heels were high, and I didn't wait for him, walking fast toward the mansion entrance. —- “Hey, watch it. You’ll hurt yourself if you keep…” He didn’t even finish the warning before my heel caught on the cobblestone drive. I pitched forward, hitting the ground hard. My knees screamed in pain, the impact jarring my whole body. A sharp cry escaped me, and I closed my eyes, blinking against the sudden, agonizing sting. Today’s really not my day. But tears were never a thing for me. I wouldn't cry. “I told you to be careful,” he said, his voice flat.

And better still, some may neither have at all nor be a carrier. 'Really?' said Eniiyi who had rather been secretly harbouring a wish for siblings. 'Yes, my dear.' 'Is there a cure for it?' she asked hopefully. 'Unfortunately, there is no cure for Triple A Syndrome yet. But Alacrimia can be managed by either applying topical lubricants such as artificial tears or ointments or with a procedure called punctal occlusion. This one closes the tear ducts that drain tears from the eye.' 'Can I do the punctal one?' Eniiyi asked, feeling hopeful again.

The sound of foot-on-flesh filled the pit, over and over, as Knuckles stomped down with all the power of a man who knew he’d already won. Misha curled inward, arms trying to protect his side, but he wasn’t blocking well. He couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe and gripped the railing so hard my knuckles were white, my lips trembling. I felt sick. Actually sick.

“She’s made her decision. He has my blessing and Grams. And if you think that being my son is going to save you from punishment, you’re a fucking idiot.” “I can’t watch her throw her life away!” James yelled. “What life?” Nessie yelled back as she turned to face her cousin. Knuckles rubbed his hands up and down her arms trying to calm her. “What fecking life do yeh think I have? I spent six months on the run waiting for bones to heal. I had to have surgery to set me arm. I’ve been here for nearly a year and yesterday was the fifth time I’ve left the compound.” Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks unchecked. Knuckles pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

There was a breaking sound as cracks danced their way to its surface. “Damn!” She gulped as a pricking pain embraced her knuckles, blood trickling from it. “What have I done?”

With every punch, I poured out the frustration, the guilt, and the pain that threatened to drown me. Thud. Thud. Thud. My knuckles collided with the unforgiving surface, each strike sending a jolt of pain up my arms. I clenched my teeth, ignoring the sting, and threw another punch. And another. Until finally, I miscalculated, a single slip in form and pain erupted in my hand. I stumbled back, clutching my fist and groaning in frustration.

he insisted while his gaze dropped back down to my swollen lips. I gently grabbed his right wrist and I pulled his bruised hand up so I could inspect the fresh bandages I wrapped around his knuckles. The white gauze was already stained with a few spots of dark red blood but the cuts seemed to be holding together without needing medical stitches. "You are going to have to soak this hand in warm water and Epsom salts tonight or your joints will stiffen up by tomorrow morning," I instructed him while sliding back into my comfortable nursing mode. "I can survive a little bit of knuckle pain," Kyle dismissed my medical advice with a careless shrug of his broad shoulders.

I've honestly drawn a conclusion that he doesn't use the better part of his brain and that makes me sick to the stomach knowing he would be responsible for their lives. I clenched my fists so tight my nails broke skin. My knuckles were raw, red, trembling. I couldn’t cry anymore. The tears had dried up days ago, leaving nothing but a storm in my veins. I threw a punch at the wall before I could stop myself. Then another. And another. A sick crunch sounded on the third hit—sharp pain lanced up my arm, and warm blood trickled down my wrist. I stared at it. Welcomed it. At least it made me feel something.

I sat on the floor, holding my knee. “Oh, the pain!” I yelled, tears falling from my eyes. They looked at me, shocked. “My knees hurt so bad, my wolf is not even healing, and I have so many cuts all over my body!” I yelled, crying heavily. Tears fall down my eyes like waterfalls as I rub my knees. I remembered my parents, and I didn’t need to fake the tears anymore; they came naturally. “Oh, the pain,” I cried, beating my chest. Adam shook his head, his mouth wide open in shock.