Novel & Cerita Mother's Warmth Chapter 2

Seeing both of them warmed me up but it wasn’t enough to make me feel good. “That’s my girl, Cassandra welcomed me happily, though I least expected that from her, “Mommy’s Bird, what’s wrong with you? Aww, he dumped you, right?” she insinuated. “You can’t just be serious for a second,” I screwed her, pushing her away playfully. “No! no! No! you need this, come on. You know you do like it when I warm you up with a hug,” she yearned, pulling strongly. “Maybe, she needs mine,” my mother woke up and suggested.

Her skin was dull, smudged with days of exhaustion and despair, and her scent—usually a warm, familiar blend of cedar and wildflowers—was tainted, unfamiliar, like an intrusion on her very soul. Her mother gasped, her face turning a sickly shade of white. She closed the door quickly, locking it behind her. “Oh, my child,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she reached out and pulled Channary into her arms, cradling her, the way she had when Channary was small and scared of thunderstorms. “What happened to you?” Channary pressed herself into her mother’s warmth, feeling a flicker of the safety she once knew, but even her mother’s arms felt hollow, offering a comfort that felt somehow stole

JAX: I took her pale hand in mine; her temperature seemed normal, a good sign that life coursed well through her. My mother had surprisingly been waiting for her to wake up. I don't know what she had planned in that conniving head of hers, but she'd be wrong to think her sad methods of motherly manipulation would work.

Yet she never gives up, she just wants some food in her stomach. "Mom, please. It was my birthday, and I was h-hungry. Please, mom. I didn't find any-anything to eat f-for the past two d-days, m-mom. Please, let me eat some, mom." She begged desperately as she tried to touch her mother's feet, but got kicked away from touching anywhere near her mother. A tear after tear, she couldn't hold them in, barely felt the hunger when her heart was breaking so much. Her mother suddenly squats down, matching her head level, as she smiles warmly. Her mother's eyes strolled on her face as she touch them softly. She melted at the warm touch, closing her eyes, she miss the touch so much.

said the girl in front of him. She pulled him into the house. He saw their mother, a nice looking woman with big breasts, who was reading in a chair and looked up at him. “Chuck’s going to help us with that project for school we’ve been talking about, Mamma,” said the girl who had let him in. “Okay, Betty,” said the woman. “Leave the door open please.” Some maternal instincts are automatic. “Okay, Mamma,” said Betty, pulling Chuck along by his hand.

Inside, the fire crackled and the wine breathed and three women who'd been enemies and allies and something in between slept in the warmth. It wasn't the end. But it was the end of the beginning. --- End of Chapter 220

It seemed as though all my years of running away from this truth of mine was just vanity, futility. My door squeaked open slowly. I swayed my gaze towards the entrance and met with the warm eyes of my mother. She stood solemnly at the door which was still ajar. Her hands dangled in the green gown she wore. Her cobalt eyes peered at me tiredly. I sniffled and used the back of my hand to wipe my running nose. She remained still at the door as though scared of stepping into the room. I really wished she would encase me in a hug. I longed for her warmth. “Mamma…” I whispered after a while. Her eyes flickered at the echo of my voice but she didn’t react to it. I could see Matteo standing by the w

He just shakes his head and goes back into his room, leaving me feeling like I had done something wrong. Bell was so cold at times it killed me but I knew I deserved it, I would watch the realisation appear on her face and the walls would slam into place to protect herself. I had only just sat on the end of my bed when a soft tap came at my door, I can feel my mother before she even enters. I smile as my tiny mother walks in, she may be small but this woman can take down the toughest of men easily. Her gold eyes are so similar to my own, she smiles at me, her warmth and love wraps around me as it always does when she smiles at me.

"We wait. Let him come out of the shadows. Then we decide our next move." She nodded slowly, her eyes distant. “Okay.” All of a sudden — a strange warmth spread through my chest. Not painful. Just... there. I ignored it. "Are you feeling alright?" my mother asked, her eyes narrowing. "You look pale." "I'm fine." I sat up straighter, shaking off the feeling. "I didn't sleep well." She didn't look convinced, but she let it go. Then the warmth deepened. Turned into something heavier. My lungs felt tight.

"Mother, I don't feel well." Concern flashed across Mother’s face. Without hesitation, she rose and guided me out of the hall, her hand warm and reassuring against my back. "Let's get you to bed, darling," she murmured, her voice laced with worry. As we made our way to my room, the dizziness intensified. By the time we reached my bed, my skin felt like it was on fire, my temperature spiking rapidly. Mother tucked me under the heavy, silk-covered blankets, her movements quick and efficient, but I could see the fear in her eyes.