Richard Simmons With A Headband Novels & Stories

I nodded, pretending I wasn’t already overwhelmed. Dr. Simons was sitting behind a large oak desk when I walked in, and the first thing I noticed was how kind her smile looked the moment our gaze met. She had short, silver-streaked hair that was neatly styled, and her glasses perched delicately on her nose. Her hazel eyes were warm and there was this genuine sweetness about her, like she truly cared. “Miss Harrison, please have a seat,” She said, gesturing to the chair across from her.

"You, child, sometimes think too much before doing things, leaving people unsure of what to say. Your uncle has no children, you are his only relative. If you need help, just say the word." Paige nodded and finished the drink in her cup, "I won't be polite to you." She chatted with Simeon for a bit and then headed back to that private room. Simeon raised his hand and patted her shoulder, "Go ahead, I came here to meet with business partners too." Paige gave Simeon a few bottles of good wine, even though she knew he didn't need them, but it was a gesture from a younger generation. Simeon chuckled and waited for her to leave, the smile on his face slowly fading away.

“Let’s go,” I whispered, clutching Richard’s hand. But he yanked it away. “We can’t just leave like this. Please, Lisa. We need to see the Alpha.” “Let’s gooo!” I snapped—louder than I meant to. The pain cracked through my voice like glass shattering. The door creaked open. Simon stepped out, shirtless and calm, Mira draped behind him like a poisonous shadow. Her smirk was pure venom, her eyes sharp enough to cut.

The days of revelry and beautiful companionship made one nostalgic. Seeing Richard Harris not lifting his head, Simon came forward decisively, holding onto the toilet bowl as if begging, "Harris, please reconsider! I can't live without you!" "Don't imitate that woman's behavior. Acting coquettish towards me won't work. Just one word! Leave!" Richard Harris had made up his mind. "Don't! Hu hu hu hu~~~~~" Clearly, Simon continued to imitate the crying and pleading of a woman. Unfortunately, Richard Harris knew without looking that there were no tears.

Simon said as Sabrina watched him stagger to the darker side of the office, soon he was back with a box. "Seat," he ordered. Sabrina watched as he pulled out a liquid substance. Simons's hair fell towards his forehead as he slowly poured the substance on the dry wool, "this might hurt a little," he said and Sabrina couldn't help but remember kai. He was this caring but all along his pack and family are monsters. "Let's just get this done sharply, sleepy," she said, Simon gazed at her one last time before nodding his head. "The plan might not really work but my men will try their best," Simon muttered.

They were bringing something with them—something—among their spectral ranks. Dark-winged things flapped overhead and Richard and Tommy flinched away from the invisible wingbeats. When they straightened, their eyes went again to the figure inside that scattering of gauzy revenants. It looked semi-human. Humanlike, but not quite. Limping, jostled about. Shambling forward. Lightning daggered the sky and Richard uttered: “Oh, my bleeding Christ.” It was Julian Simon, gibbering incoherently, drools of slaver hanging, his camel-hair clinging to him in gory shreds. The old man lumbered into what light there was and they saw how the body had been traumatized, face ruined.

"Oh! Good luck with Simon! From what I can tell, you're going to need it." Simon woke up with a strong headache. He got up, took a headache pill, and took a cold shower. Soon he was ready for another day of work. "Good morning, Mr. Simon!" Perez stopped and looked at him in her bland gray suit and long skirt of the same color. "What's good about it?" he grumbled, massaging the top of his head. "Are you having a headache?" Perez asked, approaching him with concern. "You arrived last night, bumping into things and-"

I could only lift my head with the force of her pull. No one stopped her violent actions. Sherry was just about to slap me again when a man behind her called out her name. Her menacing expression instantly changed into her normal smiling self. She let my hair go and turned around. Her voice was shrill and coquettish as she said, "Simon, you're here." She affectionately hooked her arm around his. He went along and wrapped his arm around her waist. He was wearing the custom suit that I bought for him. Simon Fuller.

Simon slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while before turning his head calmly to Asher who happened to walk into the room at that exact minute, the bandage on Asher’s head was now gone and replaced with a small plaster, as was the neck brace on Simon’s neck. "How was it?" He asked and Asher beamed. "It was successful." He replied and Simon sighed heavily, swallowed, and returned his gaze to the spot on the white ceiling that his eyes seemed glued to.

"I just know that I will be getting to the bottom of this." The bottom of what?" Jumping, I found Simon and Kim making their way towards us. Simon was in a collar and had a leash attached to his neck that Kim was holding and occasionally tugging. With each tug, the collar rubbed raw spots on Simon's neck, causing him to groan in pleasure. Grimacing I tried to ignore the sight, knowing that there were bigger problems. "What's going on?" Simon asked as Travis and I quickly turned our attention back to the rogues.