Quotes On The Silent Treatment Novels & Stories

I took a sip of coke that was on the coffee table and kept shaking my leg nervous. "So is your favourite team playing?" I mustered up the courage and asked him after a long pause but got no response in return. Silence. "I have no idea about football." I spoke again, letting out a nervous chuckle. Silence. I turned to my side to look at him. He had stopped eating and had his poker face on. I assumed that he was mad at me. Is he giving me the silent treatment? I was about to open my mouth again but he stood up, placing the popcorn on the coffee table in front of us and stormed towards his room. The loud bang of his door followed right behind him.

Not responding to her greetings, eating food she prepared without acknowledging her and suddenly becoming just a house mate to her. The silent treatment became a norm ever since the first disagreement they had about quitting her job. She did not like the idea, Mark persisted sweetly until it became a quarrel where he no more responded to her greetings. She was used to their quarrel even though she hoped they would grow past it. She did not know when or how. Those quarrels were designed majorly for her to be starved of his company, his attention until she got tired and gave into his will.

Between the two of us, there was complete quiet, which, for some reason, not only caused me to become lightheaded but also rendered one of my ears completely deaf. People claim that there was a situation like that once, where they were forced to remain silent, which eventually caused them to lose their hearing. I started by slowly lifting my eyelids, and then I bit down on the corner of my bottom lip. "So, how are things going with Andre on vacation? D-Did you… p-perhaps, had some fun?" I stated that because I was unable to initiate a discussion. I was under the impression that he would respond to me, but the opposite was true. He did not respond in any way. He is giving me the silent treatm

It's just less than usual and no banter. "What do you want to talk about?" I can't help but roll my eyes and snap a little. At least he can't see it as I don't look up at him once. "Come on, don't give me the silent treatment." "I'm answering, aren't I? Does that seem like a silent treatment?" "Well, that's all you do. You don't say anything else." I feel his eyes resting on me.

He just kept clicking, eyebrows scrunched, like I was invisible. “Morning to you too, asshole,” I muttered, leaning against the fridge with my arms crossed so tight it hurt. He didn’t even glance. Just kept typing. I waited. And waited. Finally I cleared my throat so loud it echoed. Still nada. “Oh, so we’re doing the silent treatment now? Real mature for an Alpha who was balls-deep in me like six hours ago.”

’’ I snapped. I didn’t want to take my anger out on him, but I don’t get why he never says anything back to Johnathan when he was saying all those shitty things. I am more than annoyed at this point. ‘’I never asked you to.’’ ‘’Then why not stand up for yourself?’’ ‘’Because my mother once told me that silence was the greatest weapon.’’ I couldn’t argue with that. But it felt good to have him speak to me after so long, even if it was short lived because he got up from the table not long after, I did the same and cleared the dishes.

Once I got closer to him, he questioned, "Is everything over now?" Nodding, I replied, "Yes, it's all over now." From this day on, I would never need to receive the silent treatment from someone else again.

Angelina could feel tears burning in her eyes when she gave it a thought. She was giving him a silent treatment because what he did was still fresh in her mind and it was still hurting her like hell. Silent treatment was a form of punishment to him. She wanted him to know that she didn't like what he did. She wanted him to know that she was mad at him. She heaved a slow deep sigh. “ What am I supposed to tell you?” She asked, her voice full of emotions because she couldn't hide it anymore no matter how hard she tried.

He wasn't bluffing. “Shout at me.” He looked at me, “what?” “Shout at me. Scold me.” “Why?” he crossed his arms across his chest. I watched as his muscles bulged. “You're obviously mad at me, but you won't scold me. You're just giving me the silent treatment and it's so much worse. Just scream at me, and get it out of your head.” “I have no intentions of raising my voice on a woman.” “Just do it.” I urged him,

I replied, trying to console him. "And what's wrong with that?" he asked, still not turning to face me. "Well, how do I say this?" I taped my chin, hoping to find the proper words to explain to him. "Let's say that your figure of speech is way too sophisticated and creative. It makes us mortals difficult to understand. And so, to avoid misunderstanding, silence is the best measure." "Really?" he turned back, and our gazes met. I must have succeeded in adding flattery to my words because it seemed to make his sulk less severe, given the untying frown on his forehead.