Random Questions To Ask 소설 & 이야기

Instead, despite the intensity of his gaze, he gives me a nod, a silent cue urging me to continue. How do I ask what I wanna ask without asking it? … “Did you have a good time? Did you have a fan-fucking-tastic time?” Fighting my intrusive thoughts, I clear my throat softly, asking, “W-Why was Catalina here?” The question doesn’t faze him, and when I think he’s going to take a minute to think about his answer, he surprises me, asking me what I wish I were better prepared to answer, “Why are you asking me that?”

He asked. “Well,” I said. “It's not about whether or not you ask questions as much as how polite you are when asking them. Getting too personal with someone you don’t know is a recipe for foul things to come. Ask her about her favorite color, what kind of music or food she likes, and if she chooses to share something that's one thing. However, don't pry. If she shows you something she can do, you can ask, but I don't want you boys bombarding her about all of the things you wonder if she can do because I don't even think she has all the answers and it’s rude." I told them.

“How about we play a game? Something lighthearted. 20 Questions?” He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “20 Questions? What, like, we take turns asking random questions?” “Exactly,” I said, feeling my pulse quicken. “We ask anything—no filters, no restrictions. And you have to answer honestly. It’ll be fun.” He chuckled. “Alright, love, you’re on. You can go first.” I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the onslaught of questions that was about to come. “Alright, here’s an easy one. What’s your favorite food?”

“You know that is not the answer you are supposed to give? Karen, you can talk to me about anything you know that right?” She hummed in response not saying anything. I thought of the best way to break the ice. “Random questions.” My wolf suggested. I snapped my finger in delight. “Okay, I think I know how we can get you in the mood. Let’s ask random questions while we share the whiskey.” Karen furrowed her brows. “How does that work?” “Just ask whatever comes to mind.” “Okay. So do you think you will ever be happy with Mark?” She asked.

“Exactly. You had the board game, didn’t you? What kind of questions do they ask?” “Why?” I say, puzzled. “We’re doing a Couples’ Quiz contest. Are the questions hard?” “Hard? No! They’re just fun. Silly things. Basic stuff that couples know about each other.” “Ask me some.” Lottie sounds a bit tense. “Give me some practice.” “Well, OK.” I think for a moment. “What kind of toothpaste does Ben use?” “Don’t know,” says Lottie after a pause. “What’s his mother called?” “Don’t know.”

“You know, of things we want to know about each other? Just to make it less awkward when we’re at my parents’ place.” Kiera glances at me, surprised but intrigued. “A game?” “Yeah, like a fun questionnaire. It could break the ice. We could take turn asking things, like our dreams, what we wanted to be when we grew up… you know, stuff that helps us not feel like strangers.” She laughs softly, the sound easing some of the tension. “Okay, that could work. But only if I get to ask the first question.” “Deal,” I reply, smiling. “What do you want to ask?”

there, as I am ready to start our private talk, I ask my first question, “What color do you like?” He takes a second to react to my abrupt question. He then answers, “Red.” “Oh!” as hard as I can, I slap on my firm ass with my palm, making a sharp and loud noise, “Like the pantie I’m wearing today. Sexy and passionate.” I said. My answer claims an odd look from him. I cover my mouth as I giggle shyly. Then, I ask my next question, “What coffee do you like?” Without pondering, he answers, “Ristretto.”

I opened my eyes and stared at his serious face as he sit across me comfortably. Ever since things between us ended drastically, I always had a lot of questions to ask him. Now that he's asking me what they are, I don't know which to ask him first and which will he give me a satisfying answer. Should I ask him my personal questions that had troubled me for four years like 'Why did he made our marriage last for two years?' or 'Did he ever love me?' or just ask him stupid things like 'Will there still be a chance between us?' or 'Did he really love Ivy?'

Anyone asking too many questions. Including me.

“Of course, you have to answer my question to you. So, what's your answer? The light is on or off?” “All right, on?” then suddenly they shouted. “Ssh, be quiet. Next question ma'am, chocolate or sex? ” “Huh? Wait, choco-” he didn't let me finish speaking, and he immediately changed the question. “Next question, Hotel or motel?” Whatever he asks me, i always feel like i'm on a hot seat. “Hotel?” then they shouted again. “Is it exciting, ma’am? This is the next question. Is he muscular or handsome?”