Lesung Di Bawah Mata Novels & Stories

I whispered under my breath, barely audible over the prof's voice, imagining his deep timbre: "That's it, sub—build it slow, feel every throb, let it consume you." The sensation was electric, a jolt that made my core clench involuntarily as I rubbed, the lecture fading to white noise amid the rustle of pages and occasional coughs. Every circle sent sparks shooting up my spine, my breaths shallowing, hips twitching imperceptibly against the hard seat.

And this is even in the best case. - What kind of a child... watches all sorts of horror films, and then scares his mother. “As if you’re so easily scared,” Marcus chuckled wearily. Leah turned her head to the window and began to indifferently watch the thick and bare tree trunks flashing before her eyes. Her body and mind were exhausted from the feeling when you want to sleep, but you can’t take a nap for even five minutes: you lower your eyelids, but your eyes still continue to notice rare flashes of light through your thin skin.

The question gnawed at me, but I knew better than to let it distract me. Jesse started his lecture, his voice steady and authoritative. I kept my head down, trying to focus on my notes, but I could feel his presence, his energy filling the room. After a few minutes, I risked a glance in his direction. His eyes were scanning the room, almost as if he were searching for someone. When our eyes met, my heart skipped a beat. I quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in my textbook.

We're speaking low, careful, but not careful enough in the quiet classroom where even whispers seem to echo. "Miss Luna." The lecturer's voice slices across the room like a knife through butter. She sits up straight like she's been electrocuted, her dark eyes widening slightly. "Since you're clearly enjoying your conversation with Miss Luna, why don't you answer this—" He launches into a complex question about symbolism and metaphorical underpinnings in the literature reading we were supposed to have completed. I honestly don't know what specific text he's referencing—my brain has long since checked out, lost in thoughts of golden eyes and forbidden meetings.

Hazel's Point of View The lecture hall hums with quiet energy as I stand at the front, facing rows of eager faces. A week has passed since our trip to the cave, and the buzz hasn’t died down. The sunlight slants through the tall windows of the lecture hall, casting golden patterns across desks and notebooks. The air smells faintly of paper, ink, and the earthy trace of students who’ve just come in from outside.

I quickly took a step back, "The lecture is about to start." Kai didn't say anything and kept staring for a little longer than usual before finally nodding in agreement. A strange look crossed his eyes. I couldn't focus on any of the words during the lecture. My gaze was fixed on the dark clouds forming in the sky. The outside started getting darker even though it was supposed to be broad daylight. My reflection stared at me. Lightning started getting wild in the sky. I inhaled a sharp breath, my reflection was no longer the same.

The slanted-eyed lecturer began to glance straight at Bellona's face. The two seemed to be looking at each other from a considerable distance as if to send sound waves to each other.

One by one, the men read a passage in English, sharing our interpretation to the crowd and waiting for the Duke to agree or disagree like a teacher at school. My passage was simple, and the meaning behind the words was clear. Others had problems with reading and comprehending the verses, making the lecture last longer when Bryce had to explain and simplify things. With the current speaker droning on about "turning the other cheek," I sneak behind the wall of men, laying down on the bench, closing my eyes. The words spoken in the background was like a Valium, and my tiredness takes over. My mind drifts with the images of Braxius and Brixtius appearing, both men handsome

Leila The lecture hall was fillled with an eager scent of fresh starts. I shifted in my chair, the pleats of my skirt digging into my thighs, and let my gaze sweep the room. Rows upon rows of faces—sharp, polished, hungry. This was our first class, the start of something that felt more like a chess match than a semester. Everyone was sizing each other up, curious but cautious, like wolves circling a clearing, trying to map the hierarchy without showing their teeth.

"Just close your eyes and imagine dimming the lights in the room. Do not leave the room in darkness but it should not be brightly lit. Which lights would you switch off and which ones would you leave on?" As she speaks, I sort of get the hang of it. It seemed easy because the moment I concentrated, I heard a lot of relieved sighs. I open my eyes and this time everyone is looking at me. Leslie is holding an exceptionally quiet baby of ours. It is as if he understands the situation. Sometimes I wonder if my baby is just a week old.