Romance Talking Novels & Stories

He tells me while he sees his ties. “Ouch!” I say angrily. “What nonsense.” I said, very upset by what he just told me. “The best thing you can give to a dead person is to always remember them for what they were. “This is not a movie, Miss Jefferson.” He tells me, looking at me seriously. “It could be a movie, don't you believe in what happens in romantic movies?” I asked him, confident that the world is not so bad and maybe it can be as beautiful as movies.

“That’s it. I'm always the hotheaded one. Everytime I try to have a conversation, you always make me out to be crazy. Why can't we just talk like normal people?” “Because you're always yelling. You're always mad about something and when you're not, I can't even say anything cause I know that you'll soon be mad. So tell me, Roman, what's the point in speaking to you at all. I don't know what the matter is with you.” I didn't like raising my voice at him, I didn't like raising my voice at all but he always pushed all the right buttons. I mean, why the hell was he here talking about Kian?

"Let’s just talk about the deal." "No more talking!" he shrieked.

He hums. I continue speaking. “You know, almost the same thing happens in every romantic movie. Still, it’s just so…perfect. The whole meetcute, love at first sight, enemies to lovers, fake relationships. All those cliche troupes are the best. I just can’t get enough of them.” I continue talking. “Then something silly and inconsequential happens and they have a big fight.” Ronan mumbles.

he said slowly, “then bought me this.” “Yes.” “And you expect me to accept that.” “Yes.” Roman stared at her like she was a myth the universe never intended to explain. “Elena,” he finally whispered, “do you enjoy giving me heart attacks?” She stepped closer, tilting her head. “Only on weekdays.” Roman’s lips twitched. Dangerously. A breath that wanted to become a laugh but refused to surrender. He leaned in, voice low. “You do realize we are going to have a conversation about that missing ninety seven million.”

"You may be the most beautiful woman I've ever met. I like you. I want you. I get the feeling that's mutual. So... what do we do? You're a princess, but we're not in Aasleagh. I don't really know what the consequences would be like here." "Oh, but they were so much fun," she teased, then listened to his words carefully before answering, sitting up to feel more like they were really having that adult conversation.""But you're right. We're adults. We should be able to have adult conversations. And yes, the attraction is mutual." He chuckled. "The euphemisms don't have to go, I just thought it'd be good for us to be frank for a minute. Besides," he said, grinning at her, "it's always nice to he

If it’s not about the freaking credit card, then what is it? Did I turn him on last night so he wouldn’t forget about me? Then chubby girls must be his kink. “Do you agree?” “What?” I asked. “That we can talk in private.” My eyes squinted. “Why?” “So we can talk about what I’m going to say.” “Why can’t you say it here?” What is he going to say that people don’t need to hear? As to what I remember from romance movies and novels, things that go like this turn crazy.

Avery snarls, slamming a glass down on the counter and pouring some iced coffee into it. "Look, I'm here to explain," he protests, and she grits her teeth, spinning around with a can of whipped cream in her hand. "No, you don't get to explain. Hanging up a phone generally means that the conversation is over. It doesn't mean you run here," Avery scowls, turning back around and putting some cream on top of her coffee. "No," Roman sighs, grabbing Avery's shoulders and turning her around. "I want to talk to you, properly," he firmly says, and Avery raises a brow.

he countered. "Well, you already know a lot about me. You know about my mum, my love for fries, Chick flicks, Grey's Anatomy, and even my weird habit of talking to flower pots when I'm drunk. So far, you're the only mysterious one here, so tell me about you," I said, keeping my gaze fixed on him. "What exactly do you want to know?" I mimicked his previous expression with a sigh. "Just talk to me, Dante." "You know what, I think it's best if you and I just sit in silence and watch one of those cheesy romcoms you like," he suggested.

"Since when do you go on three dates in two days? That seems excessive even for you." "I'm trying to give love a chance," Wednesday declared. "Or at least give mediocre conversation a chance. So far, no luck. I'm beginning to think romance is dead." "What's romance?" Iniko asked, looking up from his tablet. "It's when grown-ups act silly because they like each other," Wednesday explained. "Like in those movies where people stare at each other and say dumb things." "Oh." Iniko considered this. "Aunt Wednesday, if you're chasing love, can you chase one for my mama too?"