Second Story 소설 & 이야기

Sander asked curiously. Ninik continued to guide them to the second floor. Sander wondered how these two people could drag his uncle up to the second floor in that condition. "We don't know ourselves, sir. Suddenly, Mr. Dennis went berserk after coming home alone earlier. His face was really red. He went up to the second floor and started shouting, then came back down to the kitchen to get a kitchen knife," Ninik replied, her voice trembling. It seemed like the girl was traumatized, but she had to endure it because finding a job these days was very difficult.

My breathing slowed, my senses dulled, and with each second the world grew a little quieter. My feet touched cold stone instead of earth. I felt the chill on my skin, the naked vulnerability of being human, as I crouched down by the gallery door. The keys lay in their usual spot, under the flat stone next to the flowerpot. My fingers trembled as I fished them out, the cold metal sharp against my skin. I slid the key into the lock, heard the soft click, and pushed the door open. I sprinted up the stairs to the right floor. I prayed to the Moon Goddess we wouldn’t meet any neighbours. Once at my front door, I had to catch my breath. I slid the key into the lock with a shaking hand.

What if I was first this time? I don’t want to possess him. I’m not here to rewrite a love triangle. I just… don’t want him to end up broken again. And if I have to be the distraction that keeps him from drowning, so be it. I draw a line under my first list and start a second. Plan (Now With Extra Existential Panic): 1)Use knowledge of market crash to make subtle investments. Or short something. Or—God, I need to G****e this. 2)Slowly distance myself from the Carringtons before they cut me off. Makes me look independent. Maybe mysterious. Definitely less pathetic.

As she approached the door, she steeled herself for the unusual situation of meeting her English teacher outside the classroom. Descending the stairs and exiting her house, she quickly found herself in Mr. Ito's car. Despite the self-consciousness she felt, she chose not to probe further into the nature of their meeting. The drive was brief, and soon they arrived at a charming coffee shop. They stepped out of the car and made their way inside, the cozy ambiance of the café offering a gentle contrast to the whirlwind of emotions she was experiencing.

- David but as the battle goes on we've forgotten something important!! *RRROARRR!!* *RRARRRR!!* *RRRROARRR!!!* "wait what was that sound, where it came from!?"- Dessa the zombies outside are pushing the gate!!! because of the unique structure of the building, there is 2 entrance here, the stair straight to 2nd floor and the main entrance at the 1st floor which don't have any stair inside, so if you want to go to the 2nd floor you have to go out and use the stairs there

For the first time, I felt disgusted at him. I hated myself for having loved someone like him for ten whole years. Numb to the world around me, I let Mary dry me off and tuck me into bed. I was starting to run a fever, my head heavy and dizzy. I missed my father. 'Just one more night,' I thought. If I could endure one more night, I could leave that place and never see them again. That night, I slept in the guest room. Brandon came in again without knocking. He held the company's financial report in his hand, his expression cold.

Lucien Arden took the throne. He crowned Rosalind Hartwell empress. And Evelyn Hartwell—the principal wife who had fought at his side all the way from embattled prince to emperor—was given only the rank of Imperial Consort. The day the decree came down, Silverleaf Palace was completely silent. Every servant kept their head lowered and hardly dared to breathe, afraid that Evelyn would weep, or throw things, or come apart the way any consort does when the emperor's favor leaves her. Evelyn simply accepted the decree, calmly. “I thank His Majesty for his generosity.” There was no movement in her voice and nothing in her face. Even her beautiful eyes held not the slightest trace of grief.

Annoyance slowly delved into me because I needed to finish this as fast as possible and go back to Paris. I throw the backpack at him. He caught the bag with a frown and opened the bag without hesitating. A smile formed on his lips when he saw the money inside. “Est-il ici ?” I asked again. (Is he here?) “Deuxième étage, chambre deux.” (Second floor, room two) He winked at me before gesturing to the other men. Probably, just let me go through them. I cleared my throat as I walked upstairs, and it led me to a second floor filled with red doors.

Now, Rhett’s rough treatment layered fresh ones over the old. Sarah had long grown accustomed to this kind of humiliation. The familiar pain came in waves, blurring together until she could barely think. Eventually, she begged Rhett to untie her as she struggled to hold herself together. Yet, Rhett only seemed more entertained by her desperation. He untied the ropes, but the moment she tried to move away, he dragged her back by the ankle.

Alright then you don't have to sign the contract, you can go stay at the house. There was no way he was going to let her go and get hurt again, what if she doesn't survive it this time, he thought? ***** The house was t was a four-bedroom duplex, she wondered how Howard could get such an apartment for sex. "Why didn't he just do that at his house, his house was big enough to contain