Peter From Anne Frank Novels & Stories

A man, chubby but in a fit way, skipped out of his trapezoid shaped house. “Hello?” His eyes were like stars, it was easy to tell that he smiled a lot. “You are Miss Pierce, aren't you?” Instinct kicked in, I subtly stepped back and prepared my legs to race into our house. “Oh, no, no.” He noticed my suspicion. “I am Peter. My son also attends Prinpress Academy.” I was still skeptical as I watched him reach into the back pocket of his very blue jeans. “See?” He showed the item and I saw that it was the ID card given to all parents. “Peter junior is in elementary school. The bus will drop him off soon.”

He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I knew you were sub the moment I saw you and I suspected it had something to do with my type. And you looked helpless too. I just couldn't walk away.” He said. I smiled tentatively. “Thank you for helping me, Peter.” I said, sniffling. He arched a brow at me. “You know my name?” He asked. I laughed, my first real laugh in hours. “Of course I know your name. You're Peter Bryce Melton. No 1 elite. You've lived abroad all your life with your grandma.” I said.

A groggy voice sounded and then the light was shut on, and then the door got shut quickly. “C’mon, I know you like it.” The groggy voice sounded again touching the shoulder of a boy sitting on a chair and stroking his dick. It was Peter, he was bisexual, no one hated him cause he hid that he actually liked men and since he liked ladies too, it was easy.

he said, chewing his gum a little loudly Looking down to my computer, I pretended as if I didn't remember him "your name sir?" "Forgotten my name already sugar?" He asked, giving me a toothless grin "it seems I didn't make quite the impression the other day, but it's okay, the name is Peter" Just for formality, I checked for his in the system "Mr. Peter_?" "Peter Washington"

The young man smiled, snorting happy to be able to look directly into my eyes, "because I have made your voice inaudible to your friend." I frowned, not understanding what he meant. Without even asking he already knew the question that was in my head. “ My name is Peter, Peter G. Wilson. And I, descendant of witches. You get what I mean right?” My eyes widen at that, “and I've made your friend's voice inaudible … by magic,” he added anxiously. "You are okay?" he asked as he touched my cheek.

That would have been easier than finding out the people I believed were my parents… weren’t. “Because you deserved a life free from their mess,” he muttered. I let out a dry chuckle. “You mean the life I’m living right now?” The question hung in the air unanswered. Because honestly, there was no good answer. I deserved the truth. Then and now. “Peter was arrested in Spain. At the airport,” he said after a while. “He had gone for a delivery, like he always did.” He lifted his head but stared at nothing in particular, his expression completely blank.

Suddenly, the appearance of a handkerchief and a dark figure startled her—she mistook it for Calvin and instinctively smiled, “Calv—” She stopped mid-word, realizing it wasn’t him. “Peter?” Peter stood there with his arms folded, his black suit crisp and sharp. A faint smile played on his lips; he looked like a knight in polished armor. “Did Calvin bully you? I’ll straighten him out if he did.” Anna clutched the handkerchief, shaking her head. “No…” “Oh? Then maybe Grandpa gave you a hard time? I doubt it. He always praises you as a good girl—he even hopes you’ll marry into the Walker family soon!”

It was clear—she had dressed this way to attract Ryan's attention. "Hi, Annie," she greeted me politely. "Hello, please come in," I replied, doing my best to remain composed. Peter greeted me from behind her as well. "Hello, Ms. Jaeger. I've learned conversational Darlenian thanks to Ryan's help, and I'm very grateful to you both." Peter stood an impressive six-foot-three, towering over me by at least two heads. His muscles were well-defined, giving him a rugged appearance. But what truly caught my eye was… something down there. The outline was unmistakable even in his sweatpants. My knees nearly gave out when faced with such an overwhelming sight.

"If you need my notes or anything, I would give it you and you shouldn't hesitate to request for things you'ld need from me, Okay?" I smiled and nodded. "Good" Peter said and left the kitchen. Wow what a really generous and friendly person he is. I guess, he is God-sent. *.* * * * To Be Continued ******** *****

I said, feigning ignorance. The man—Peter, as I soon learned—smiled back, but his eyes remained sharp and calculating. "My name is Peter, and I’d really appreciate it if you could make this easy for both of us. I mean, don’t drag this out," he said, tapping his pen on the table. I crossed my legs and readjusted my sitting position. "What do you want from me, Peter?" He leaned forward slightly, his expression hardening. "So, Miss Martinez, why did you stab Mr. Grant?"