Mia Wallace Bloody Nose Novels & Stories

I walk to the bathroom to wash off the blood oozing from my nose before I look for something to wipe the floor with. The guy has strong bones, for sure. Coming out of the bathroom, my nose is still bleeding a little. I find this dog staring at the bloody spots on the floor. He must be jumping inside with ecstasy, seeing me like this. His shapeless body must be throbbing in his pants, seeing me in pain.

Blood splattered out, a clear sign that my nose had probably cracked. She looked at me with fire in her eyes. She wanted to say something, probably to cuss me out, but she didn't. Instead, she just bit her lip and turned back to her brother. She helped Scrawny up, and together with Blake they walked away. Biggie followed after them, before yelling to the crowd to fuck off. He even took someone’s phone and threw it across the hall, causing it to crash into a million pieces. People began dispersing in fear, meanwhile, I just laid there on the cold hard floor. My hand instinctively went to my nose, putting some pressure on it to stop the bleeding.

In fact, he was not expecting an answer, but a simple nod, or perhaps, a shake of his head, that's all he was willing to accept. Micah gave him an urgent nod, tears streaming down his face and the gag, now, soaked. "Good." Wallace gave him one last glance, before turning away. "Take care of the rest." He ordered his men, then, walked out, leaving the room and the stench of blood and fear behind him. "Sir." As soon as he stepped outside, Khalid approached him, but he wasn't alone. "Ms. Bianca-” Before he could finish, the woman in question stepped forward and pulled Wallace into a hug, cutting off his words.

His chair flips over as he crashes hard into the floor behind the desk. The glass of scotch shatters against the wall, spraying alcohol over his books. Damon lets out a choked, bloody gasp, curling on his side as blood instantly pours from his nose, painting his lips and chin. He slowly lifts his head, wipes his nose, and smiles at me.

James said, walking in with someone's hand in his. It was Zar. She wore a short, flowing pink dress, and she looked I lost the thread of whatever I'd been about to think. Mate, my wolf said again, immediately, uselessly. Hey. This isn't the time to be possessive, I told it. Mate. Mate. Mate. Pain cracked through my skull without warning, sharp enough that I flinched and pressed a hand to my temple. "What's happening?" Mae's hand found my arm. "You're bleeding," she said, pointing at my nose. I touched it on reflex, and my fingers came away wet.

After leaving the hospital room, Mason shut himself inside the smoking lounge. The feeling that everything was slipping beyond his control closed in on him. He smoked through an entire pack, chasing the rising panic with nicotine. His assistant called, his voice tight. "Mr. Hamilton, we've managed to contain the fallout from the gala, but it's caused serious damage. And Ms. Wallace has been crying. She says she's scared and wants to see you." Mason's fingers tightened around the cigarette.

The wind howled violently, scratching at my throat until I felt an itch that seemed to make me want to cough. "Enough talking. Choose, or I'll let them both go." At Amber's signal, the men next to us hoisted both me and Tara up. The salty sea breeze hit me in the face, and the sharp smell of ocean water churned my stomach. However, nothing compared to the screaming in my ears. Before I could even draw a breath, Ethan had already made his choice. At that moment, everything went silent. Amber instinctively turned to look at me. My vision flickered and spots of black clouded my sight, but I did not know why.

He forced her back to the floor before lifting and tossing her onto the concrete inside the cell. Mia landed hard and bit her tongue. Blood flooded her mouth, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, she dabbed her tongue on the sleeve of her hoodie and watched Wallace warily. He stood against the outside of the cell for a long moment, staring at her with a peculiar expression. It wasn’t hunger—at least not the sexual kind—but he clearly wanted something from her. “Don’t you have anything better to do than gawk at me?” The words came out a bit thick, due to her tongue still bleeding, and the sweatshirt

“Dale… I’m never speaking to you again in my life.” 🦪 DALE LAZARUS 🦪 It’s been a gloomy day for Dora and me. After our fight, blood poured out of my nose, so much that I bet it would fill a gallon. I was in the toilet for hours, trying to wash away the blood that wouldn’t stop coming out.

He struck several more times in quick succession. Finally, Wallace collapsed in a pool of blood. The vendor checked his breathing. Once he was certain Wallace was dead, he swiftly fled. Yet, after a few seconds, Wallace suddenly gasped for air. With great effort, he crawled outside, reaching for his signal flare. But he had no strength left. He lost consciousness before he could fire the signal flare.