Rosita Fresita の小説・ストーリー

A joke to myself. “All done.” I smiled at her, and handed her a cloth to wrap around her till Theodore was back. Go to Jamira’s room, and wait. Theodore will be back soon with clothes.” She nodded okay, and walked to the room. I notice she doesn’t really fight back much. I would have to give her some time to know she can say no, and ask for stuff. That she doesn’t have to do something she doesn’t want to. I went down the stairs and brought Rosalita up next. I was not going to be surprised this time. Unlike her sister, she got undressed easily, and got in the tub with no encouragement. She was definitely brave. She did not even hide her body. She looked no better than her sister. If anything…

Rhoda cautioned her husband. “Honey, look out!” Rudolf called from the rear door, "What's the matter, Honey?" Rhoda hurriedly gazed out the window as Robert clutched in her arms. Rudolf exclaims. "Look what I found from those bushes around!" he adds, "Pomelos, lemons, and green oranges from the garden. These trees are already giving citrus fruits!" he shouts. "These are nutritious vitamin-C fruits. Guavas, atis, and guyabano are plentiful here. Some fell down on the ground." Rudolf added.

Amused, Freya realised she wouldn’t even have to do much to ditch her date. “Allow me to introduce Lady Rosette of Grenwich. Lady Rosette, meet Lady Doria of Steinburg.” He announced grandly but Lady Doria was far from impressed. “Grenwich? I’ve never heard of that.” She sniffed. “It’s a small farming town my lady.” Freya supplied. “On the Far East close to the Twin mountains.” “You are very far from home then.” Said Doria, her eyes sparkling with calculation. “I like to explore. If you’ll excuse me Prince Hans, Lady Doria, I need to use the restroom.” Freya made her excuse and glided away. Let the horny old lady have him.

he added. __________ •Rosalina• "Enersto, you shouldn't have" She said with a blush as he hands her a full bouquet of scenting red roses, she wasn't really expecting it from him. Felix had never given her such since they started dating. She lowered her face to it and sniffed in, the lovely scent filled her nostrils. He leans in and pecked her lips, they stretched into a flirty smile immediately.

“She’s too stunned, in the presence of awesomeness I guess.” “Oh right,” Rosetta shook her head, “Freya, this is Andre, he’s my nephew, makes him your cousin.” “Freya?” Elias smirked and chugged nearly a gallon of water before wiping his face with the back of his hand, “Nice to finally get your name.” “Freya Wallace.” Rosetta spoke up which I really wished she hadn’t. “She’s my niece so you boys better treat her with fucking respect.” “Nothing but respectful.” Oliver leaned back with a wink my direction. “Isn’t that right little trickster?”

“Of course my baby. I’ll order…” “Mommy?” Sofia called. “Hmmm,” Rosa answered absentmindedly. “Make sure the order is perfecto. No mistakes…” I watched Rosa roll her eyes at her daughter’s tone and smiled to myself. “I am serious. Make sure they don’t overcook it,” Sofia continued. “I like it soft but not too soft. With extra olive oil. And garlic. But no onions. And the tomatoes have to be fresh, not canned.” I turned to look at Rosa, confusion spreading across my face.

The smell of smoke never left her. Even after five years, Inés still woke up coughing some nights, the phantom scent of ash curling through her dreams like a ghost refusing to rest. “Name?” the guard at the Delgado estate gate asked, his voice flat but suspicious. Inés gripped the strap of her cheap bag tighter. “Inés Montoya. I’m here for the maid position.” The man’s eyes raked over her; young, pretty, average enough not to draw attention, which was the point. He muttered something into his walkie-talkie, then motioned for her to go inside.

Death Is Just the Beginning Upon Your Return - Episode 15 Hours afterward, as she pushed through a crowd of men and women with her maid and her driver Pierre lugging two baskets behind them, Rosalie pointed to an amber-colored fruit. “From Spain, Mademoiselle. Shall we?”

That’s my Sofia. Rosa descends first her hair tied up in a bun machetes slung on her like others do with watches. She snatches a slice of pernil off the tray and scorches her fingers swearing in Spanish with such vivid language it could embarrass a sailor then presses a kiss to my cheek using that very mouth. “Morning timer. Are you earning enough to feed an army?” “I’m making enough to fund a war " I clarify. She smiles as if I have just guaranteed her Christmas.

He kisses her on the top of her head, the morning version of a gesture that has a hundred versions now, and each one is its own thing, and takes the coffee from her hand, and they stand at the window together watching the September Begur morning become what it is. Rosa arrives at noon. She is in a dress the color of the sea — not the blue of it, the deeper grey-green of it when the light is low, and the water is full of its own depth. She has had her hair done, which Valentina has seen perhaps four times in her life, and she is carrying the sixth bowl, wrapped in the same tea towel, which Valentina did not expect and which undoes her completely for approximately forty-five seconds before she