Son Holding His Mom Head No Blur Novels & Stories

I hurt them tonight in a way I will never be able to fix. “Before I answer your question, I need to ask your mother a question. Please hold on for one moment.” We watch as he turns to face mom and holds her hands within his. Tears swell in mom’s eyes and then cascade down her face as she looks to us and back to him. He is mind linking with her and asking her something vital in this situation.

She smile at him and said, in a very slowly and gently voice, "Son remember.” “that I owe you..” “I'm so very happy... to... have you.. I will love ,,, you, For... ever... more...” tingggggggggggggg‐---------------------------------- It was a straight sound came from the monitor. Joshua was panic, and that time was stopped and being slow in motion only for Joshua . Joshua was shouting and said "mom ,!!mom!!" But his mother never heard it.. anymore ....

She continued as she approached the car, attempting to grasp my arm and pull me out of the backseat. "Mom! Let go of her, Yuna is her child too. You can't just stop her from going after her baby," Ray shouted. Shane positioned himself between us, pushing his mother's hand off me. I noticed her raising her head and gazing at her sons, a clear expression of disbelief and disappointment in her eyes.

" Mommy! " Dem instantly turned her head to see Black with his elementary uniform. He rushed towards her direction and hugged her tight, squeezing her skin in his little warm arms. She kissed his forehead then patted his head softly. Watching how her son grow fast, she can't avoid to feel proud of her and his husband.

I mustn't panic now or we'll lose him. When he reaches the door, he places his palms flat against it and pushes inward. Luna Brynne is there waiting for him. She jumps into his arms, sobbing hysterically while he holds her tight against his chest. I watch from the shadows of the doorway unable to move. "Adam, my son!" She cries out, shaking his shoulder roughly. "Please wake up!" His mother moves quickly across the room and sits next to him, pulling him into her lap. I stand frozen, watching as she strokes his hair tenderly. "He can't be dead," she whispers, tears streaming down her face.

“I just want my styles, where is he? Susan please bring him to me, I want to feel my son” The man repeated over and over again in a husky voice and frantically threw his arms in the air. “honey relax, he is right in front of you” My mom said and pushed me closer to him. “Styles say something to your dad” She added. Without saying a word, I let my eyes dart up and down his body. There is something wrong with this guy. I'm standing right in front of him and yet he is demanding for my presence, or is he blind?

Henry. Henry came in and held her both hands, pulling them away from her mouth. As her hands pulled away, he and Grandma saw how a small clot of dark red (almost black) blood was dropped on her palm. "It's getting worse Mom." Henry whispered. He might've played it cool in front of David but watching your mother die in front of you and couldn't do anything to save her isn't that of a good thing. "I know." She held her tears while lowering her head and hugging her son.

It caught the big mirror across the room, reflecting my flushed, lost face with my mouth open in shock and pleasure, while a broad-shouldered, shirtless man thrust into me from behind. Mom froze. Her breath hitched hard, all the color draining from her face as she stared at the screen. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away as the video kept going, showing the dark familiar hair on the man’s shoulders, the deep gravelly growl of his voice on the recording, and that obvious bruise on my neck. Outside by the water, Dad’s loud laugh carried over the crashing waves, followed by David’s calm deep voice calling to the boat captain. Inside, Mom slowly lifted her head, staring toward the empty hallwa

Then, a woman in her mid-60s walked in, holding a stick in her left hand. Her left eye remained still, unblinking, while the other moved normally. She wore a black, full-length gown. "I smell sorrow," she said, her voice eerily deep and frail, like that of an old woman. She approached him, gazing at him before gently placing her hand on his forehead, her eyes closed. Suddenly, I noticed my son's heartbeat had stopped. I took a deep breath, feeling his hand tighten around mine. I didn’t understand what was happening as he slowly began to shake his head, his eyes still closed.

"I'm not calling him. I'll call 911 again. Another ambulance will be here soon…" "Mom, I… I can't breathe…" Benji's hand felt so cold. It was even colder than the tiled floor beneath us. "I'm sorry, Mom… I can't protect you anymore in the future… Will you still choose to become my mother in my next life? But I don't want Dad anymore…" Before Benji could finish his sentence, his hand hung limply. My heart stopped beating for a moment. Intense pain finally flared from my chest a few seconds later.