Rwby Phone

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

Fresh out of the National Research Institute, I loaded up on my wife's favorite snacks and ordered a vibrant bouquet of roses, eager to surprise her. I stashed the treats in her office, then stepped out to grab the flowers. But in those fleeting minutes, a stranger had ripped open every package and devoured everything. I glared at him. "Who gave you permission to touch those?" He shot me a look of pure disdain. "Buzz off, flower boy. Drop your crap and scram!" The secretary at the door snickered. "You heard the man. He's Ms. Bowman's husband. Better run before he leaves a bad review." I pulled out my phone and called my wife. "Who is this guy in your office?"

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her, his soulmate, to recover his lost memories and body.

On the suit jacket her husband had just taken off, Hannah noticed a lipstick stain,one that definitely wasn’t hers. Yet at that very moment, her husband was clasping around her neck a one-of-a-kind gemstone necklace in celebration of their 7th wedding anniversary. Later, when she found a single strand of golden hair that didn't belong to her too, a seed of doubt quietly took root in her heart. Still, her husband's tenderness, his unwavering attention and love, made her question her own suspicions. Could she really be imagining things? Until she saw the photo on the phone— Her husband, in bed with another woman. He really had betrayed her! And that woman… was the friend she had trusted most.

They’ve hated each other forever. Top grades? They fight for it. School captain? They both ran—then sabotaged each other. Even the last drink at the vending machine turns into war. They argue like it’s a sport. Compete like it’s life or death. Fists have flown. So have insults. Everyone knows: they can’t stand each other. But then—one night, her phone buzzes. A message. From him. Weird. They don’t text. Not unless it’s to throw shade. She opens it… and nearly drops her phone. It’s him. Shirtless. Smirking. Sweaty. The lighting is low, his eyes unreadable. Not a word, just a photo. Not a joke. Not a dare. And for the first time in years… She doesn’t know if this is war or something much, much worse.

My husband and I take leave from work to travel to Highland. It's also an opportunity for me to return to my hometown. Unexpectedly, we get into a fight over the itinerary on our first day there. I snap at him when we're standing by the side of the road, but he calms me down. He even coaxes me and offers to pay for a nice meal at a restaurant. When I return to the hotel, I discover that he's run off with my luggage and mobile phone. He even leaves a message telling me to reflect on my mistakes. I borrow a phone to call him, but he doesn't answer. It's freezing in Highland. I'm almost about to die from the frost when I suddenly see sense. I'm not putting up with this anymore!

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 35,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."

For five consecutive years, I secured eighty million in core contracts for the company. Yet my salary remained six thousand. At the annual company gala, I simply told my boss, “I want a raise.” In response, he slapped me across the face three times right in front of the entire company. “Do you think clients come to you? They recognize the company! “Paying you six thousand is already charity, so don’t push your luck!” Everyone in the office watched, laughing at me. I said nothing, only quietly wiping the blood from my lip. The very next day, I took all the client resources and moved to a rival company. Three days later, my former boss broke down over the phone, screaming, “Why?! Why did they all pull out?!”

Sylvia Frost and Victor Rothwell's wedding had been postponed 33 times. This time, it happened on the night before the ceremony. She was struck by a car and left with 19 broken bones. She was rushed to the ICU three separate times before her condition finally stabilized. Once she was strong enough to leave her bed, she braced herself against the wall and shuffled into the hallway. As she reached the corner, she overheard her fiancé speaking with a friend. "Last time it was drowning. This time you used a car. That gets you another two months. What are you going to do next?" Sylvia's blood turned to ice. Victor stood there in his white coat, his phone turning slowly in his hand. "No more delays." His voice remained flat.

When Ayden Baldwin ignored me, who was stuck in an elevator, freaking out from claustrophobia, just so he could deliver cold medicine to his assistant, I filed for divorce. Ayden signed his name without hesitation and smiled at his friend. "She's just throwing a tantrum. Her parents are gone. I'm all that she's left. She won't leave me. "Besides, isn't there a thirty-day cooling-off period? If she regrets it, I'll be the bigger person and take her back." The next day, he posted a lovey-dovey pic with his assistant, captioned: "Capturing every shy moment of yours." Counting the days, I packed up my belongings and made a phone call. "Uncle, please book me a ticket to Burville."