Novelas y relatos de Sleepless In Seattle

My mood changed drastically and Sebastian noticed this. He asked what was wrong with me and I didn't know if it was a good idea to tell him what was happening to me. -It's hard to explain. -You didn't sleep very well, did you? -Is it that noticeable? -Why can't you sleep, is something bothering you? -No, it's just that I can't get to sleep. -But I can tell you're tired, tell me what's wrong. -It's hard to explain. -I know I shouldn't interfere but it's wrong that you don't sleep, you're affecting your health.

As I struggle to fight sleep, my tug of war fails and I slept so deep like the dead and I dream of burning buildings and firetrucks and police cars and Callum and when I wake, I bolt upright, sweating, heart thundering, with no idea where I am. Then I see the polished bulk of the ridiculous grand piano, the all-black everything else, and realize there’s only one place on earth besides those ridiculous reality show that I could possibly be. Callum's bachelor’s pad! I rub the sleep from my eyes, throw off the covers, and pad into the adjoining bathroom, my bladder isn’t so much full as it is ready to burst. I use the toilet, then wash my hands and face and brush my teeth because my breath is p

Lately, Scarlett's frequency of renting luxury goods had noticeably dropped. There were piles of branded boxes stacked around her seat, and even the latest model of phones and computers adorned her desk. One day, Scarlett was playing music through the Bluetooth speaker in the dormitory. She took her phone into the bathroom as she showered, seemingly chatting with someone. Suddenly, from the speaker, SIRI's mechanical voice began to read out messages: "A Mercedes AMG from Downtown asks, 'When can I see you, darling? I really want to see you, baby.'"

LILIAN POV “I have to confront Laurel. She needs to tell me everything I said to myself while walking back and forth in my bedroom. I experienced restless thoughts that spun endlessly around anxious patterns. I needed answers. No more silence. THREE HOURS LATER As I approached her room at a slow pace I whispered to myself "she could have woken up by now." My hand hesitated at the doorknob. I knocked softly. No response. The door was barely ajar when I took a quick look inside and saw her sleeping with her back to the entryway and blankets wrapped around her legs.

MIA ♥ I slammed the front door shut behind me—okay, not slammed, more like closed it with a little extra force. The bus ride home had been a nightmare all because of the kid beside me that was blasting TikToks without headphones. My backpack also felt like it weighed a ton. I kicked off my sneakers in the entryway, already dreaming about collapsing on my bed and reading a romance novel until dinner. But as I padded toward the kitchen, something immediately felt off. Mom and Dad were both there, which was weird enough—Dad usually didn't get home from work until six, and Mom was always buried in her home office emails this time of day.

I could feel every heartbeat in Seattle—four billion of them—thumping like a synchronized drum kit against the walls of my consciousness. It was beautiful, and it was a nightmare. Imagine hearing every secret whispered in the dark, every sob of a mother finding her lost child, and every glitching bit of data trying to find its place in a world that was still "Setting." I was the glue. I was the gravity. And I was incredibly, profoundly lonely.

The rain in Seattle doesn’t just fall; it settles. It drapes over the city like a heavy, wet wool blanket, muffling sound and turning the nights into long, ink-black stretches of isolation. I had been living alone in this apartment for three months, and for the most part, I enjoyed the solitude. My life was simple: work, dinner, a few hours of mindless television, and sleep. Until tonight.

Sergei My coffee is growing cold as I review construction contracts for the club renovations. Numbers and timelines should occupy my thoughts, but my mind keeps drifting to last night. For the first time in months, I slept through the night without pills, without nightmares clawing me back to consciousness, drenched in sweat and guilt.

~Maxine's POV~ The neon haze of downtown Seattle blurred at the edges as I stumbled out of The Midnight Sun bar, the bass from inside still thumping in my chest like a second heartbeat. It was past two a.m., and the street was a ghost town, empty sidewalks slick with rain, the kind that never quite washed away the grime.

"He's just fast asleep. He's always had this issue since he was a kid. He would never wake up once he fell asleep." Dad then got up and cornered Dr. Pearson. "You doctors just like exaggerating and sensationalizing the severity of illnesses to rip off poor, innocent families. Don't think I don't know that."