Smile While Crying Novels & Stories

The bone-deep steadiness he carried even when everything around us fell apart. My breath hitched, but I didn’t cry. I had cried enough for him. Instead, I smiled. Softly. Quietly. Slowly. Not the reckless, adrenaline-fueled smile I used to wear in Dramador when winning a fight meant living one more day. Not the brittle smile I forced through interviews and book signings. But a real one. A steady one. The kind that came from acceptance rather than denial. From love instead of pain.

Even though he was happy and smiling, he looked like he was going to cry any second. "You are not going to cry, are you?" I asked and heard him laugh. "I don't know. I'm happy. Even if I cry they will be tears of joy." He stated. "And why would you cry? I won't let you cry. You are only allowed to smile." I replied and this time his eyes were really filled with tears. "Aaryan no," I stated. I don't know but it was so funny. It is an unpopular opinion but boys look much cute when the cry. I should have been consoling Aaryan but I felt like laughing. The man who shows him as a strong person was emotional now!

She frowned and touched them to be sure they were there. “You are not used to crying.” He gave her a sad smile and kept quiet for a while. She wasn’t. But now, in the brief time they were together, it seemed as if she had relearned the long-lost ability. Crying was incredibly cathartic, and she kept doing it until it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

She took the drink with a smile and takes a sip. He relaxed his hands in his pocket, and scoots closer to her, heaving a sigh. “Enjoying?” he asked. Her eyes follow his face. “I can’t say I am enjoying completely. But thanks for asking anyway.” “Why do you pretend to be fake when you aren’t? why smiling when you can’t smile from inside?”. “And who said I am not smiling from inside? You are wrong about it. I am not sad about anything. Not now anyway.” She drank the whole win in one sip.

With these all running on my mind, I can’t help myself but to cry harder. “Oh my god… you are crying harder now but it was weird that you are smiling at me right now,” he scrunched his nose. From his eyes, it was evident that he was truly curious right now, “are you that happy to see my face? That you come to a point that you are smiling in bliss just because of me?” “C-Crazy…” I told him while I am still sobbing harder than before.

“ ‘It takes 43 muscles to frown and only 17 to smile’? That’s an urban myth that has already been debunked. The fact is, it takes 12 muscles to smile and only 11 to frown.” It’s been said that, on the rare occasion that she finds something hilarious, Ms. Perfect makes this sort of high-pitched and wheezing laugh without moving her lips. Kate imagines Imelda Marcos’s face pumped full of Botox, plus a sound like a squeaky toy being chewed by a dog. Fortunately, she hasn’t heard the laugh in person. So far.

"You should be grateful. You would've been dead long ago if my face hadn't been ruined so suddenly." I looked at the madness in her eyes and listened to her speak of Adrian as if he were some flawless prize. I nearly started giggling. 'Perfect? Is she seriously calling him perfect? A violent drunk of a man who breaks me down day by day before waking up with his lips dripping with insincere apologies? Fine. If that is the perfection she wants, then she can have him.' Sienna glanced aside. Chester Middleton, who had been waiting nearby, stepped forward and placed the anesthesia mask over my mouth and nose.

My smile hadn’t left my face since the first time I heard the news and I was still basking in the good news. He looked up from his laptop, a rare smile—genuine and devoid of cynicism—found its way to his lips. “I told you, Evelyn. Crying is a waste of time. We don’t do that here, we fight and we win our battles. That’s how we get revenge.”

I waited for her to take it back, to tell me she was just overwhelmed, but she didn’t. Instead, Camila did something that hurt worse than a scream. She smiled. Even as tears tracked down my face, even as my chest felt like it was caving in, she stood there with that gentle, sad smile that made everything worse. "Stop it," I choked out. "Stop smiling at me like that." But she didn't stop. She just kept looking at me with those green eyes full of love and conviction, and it made the tears well faster.

His thumb lingered near the corner of my eye, and that smile God, that dangerous smile spread across his face. “For every guy you smile at,” he said softly, “you’ll shed a tear.” The words hit like a curse. My heart sank, heavy and cold. So this was my punishment for smiling. Fear tightened around my chest until I could barely breathe. Was I supposed to never smile again? Never look at anyone?