Long Story Short I Survived Mga Nobela at Kwento

I’m here to survive. And I’ll survive this.

Sat down in the living room. “ Dr. Brown, I know you are not a Cardio doctor, but I need you to know, I don’t have long. 9 years ago I was given approximately several years left to live. So I worked hard, and tirelessly to solve the issues of those who wanted each of the families here dead. I made it so that if you ever decided to leave this community that you could do so safely and not feel like you had to stay because you didn’t feel safe. However, it is now coming to an end, as far as I am concerned. As promised you, and all the remaining families are welcome to stay here as long as you wish and live out the rest of your days.

Why does she feel like a stranger when she stares at the busy street of Athens, she wants to be like one of them and without learning their language, she will never be one of them. Lucky her, Hussain did try to teach her but damn, the language was not as easy as she thought it will be. She could only get the basic things like please and thank you. "What are you thinking about my love?" Hussain asked kissing the crock of her neck. That was her weak point and he knew it but he decided to be using it against her.

When the Program told me I could return, I felt no joy. Only emptiness. The next time I opened my eyes, I was staring at a white hospital ceiling. Machines beeped beside me, and my throat burned as if I had been asleep for years. A nurse saw me wake and rushed over. “You’re safe,” she said. “You were caught in a dockside explosion. Sophia Lane didn’t survive.” My fingers tightened against the sheet. Sophia was dead. Before I could speak, the nurse added, “There was another survivor. A young man named Luca. He woke up this morning.”

Just watchful. The mountain air was damp and sharp, smelling of pine sap and ash. Somewhere nearby, water trickled over stone. A breeze shifted the tarp, rattling the branches overhead. I pulled my knees to my chest and stared at the thin seam of morning light pushing through the trees. My heart thudded with the aftershock of adrenaline, long spent but not forgotten. “We left her,” I whispered, my voice dry. Zerina stirred. “We survived,” she replied. Not cold, but steady. “That was all we could do.”

Should have turned around and walked out with whatever dignity I had left. Instead, I heard myself say: “I watched my best friend almost die. Multiple times. She got mixed up with dangerous people, and I watched her fight for her life while I hid. I left everything I knew and moved across the country to start over, and six months later, I still feel like I’m drowning. So yeah, maybe it’s an impulse. But it’s my impulse, and I want something to show that I survived all of that.” Silence filled the shop. Just the music and my ragged breathing.

I froze with hands pressed flat on his abs as I reeled from the near-death experience and the comfortable warmth that made me want to forget every gory mess here and just lean further into him. The thought of being close to any other guy that wasn't Brandon had always repulsed me, but this was…different. “You are getting too comfortable.” He cleared his throat and dropped his hand from my waist. His stare locked on me, brows raised. Right! What the hell was I doing? “I'm so sorry.” I tumbled off him before scrambling to my feet. My arms wrapped around me on instinct as I was still shaking from what I'd just survived. The other players were there—lying on the ground with exhaustion visible on

“Try it.” His jaw tightens. “You think I haven’t been through worse?” My voice drops, my eyes locking onto his, filled with every ounce of hatred and defiance I have left. “I survived Ivorygate. I survived being used, being forced, being broken over and over again.” I lean forward as much as the chains will allow. “And you know what, old man?” My lips curl. “I still fucking came out of it wanting men, it only taught me how to hide it.”