Still Water Runs Deep Novels & Stories

He would take it as a challenge. Skylar would reach a certain stream after weaving his way through the thick woods. That's a few miles of ground he covered every time he would be there. He would pant and stare at blackness when it was dark or at the moon's reflection in the water when it's out. Full moon was in a few days so it's bright out that tonight. Skylar could see the broken image of the moon in the water, obscured by the shadows of the leaves of trees surrounding the stream. Arriving there, he would calm down from the running and his wolf was soothed by being in the presence of the stream. Or more precisely, the scent surrounding it which pacified him and his disappointment for his h

Lucas glanced at me but didn't make a move. Wendy hesitated for a moment and then released her grip, looking somewhat embarrassed. The "Heart of the Ocean" ultimately ended up in my pocket. At the post-auction gathering, it seemed Wendy still couldn't fully grasp her position. She walked over gracefully and softly called out, “Director White.” I didn't even look at her, placing the blue diamond in a crimson velvet box. Seeing that I was ignoring her, Wendy forced a smile. She tilted the highball glass in her hand slightly.

On the other hand, while the others are busy cleaning, Raia, who is also in-charge of today’s cleaners, went to the storage room to get a pail for water. He is casually walking towards the storage to get it and also went down the building to fetch the water. While walking on the corridor, at the lowest ground of the building, he heard someone whispering. He frowned and stopped for a while. After a minute, he still continues eavesdropping on the conversation. He can’t see the guy’s face but little by little, he can recognize who owns that voice. “Mr. Rayven?” he asked himself. On the other hand, there’s a guy sitting in his office while drinking his usual drink. He then took his cellphone to

"We're not done with that conversation yet." I pressed the button, and the glass window slid up, we were now in a quiet, air-conditioned space of my car. When i drove out from Uncle Peterson's estate, Jasmine had remained quiet, not responding to Prisca's comment. On several occasions, I glanced at Jasmine, who was sitting with her head pressed deeply into the chair, her eyes shut. She seemed to be meditating or sleeping, I thought of something nasty to do, something that would agitate her. I knew how annoying it could be to be awakened from sleep or disturbed when thinking deeply.

The stakes had never felt higher, and he understood that this was more than just a victory or defeat; it was a reflection of the faith that people had placed in him. “Stay focused,” Richard urged, his voice steady despite the chaos unfolding around them. “No matter what happens, we’ve built something incredible together.” His words resonated with Alex, reminding him of the journey they had undertaken and the bonds they had forged throughout the campaign. It was true; regardless of the outcome, they had created a movement that had touched countless lives.

​The transition to a quiet life had been successful, or so we told ourselves. Our cottage, perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Zaros Sea, was isolated enough to feel like a sanctuary. But silence in our world was rarely an end to the story; it was usually just a pause. ​It started on a Tuesday night. The coastal town of Oakhaven was quiet, the only sound of the rhythmic pulse of the tide against the rocks below. Julian was in the small shed we used for repairs, fiddling with an antique shortwave radio he had salvaged from a local scrap heap. He liked the static—he said it reminded him of the white noise he used to hear when he was linked to the network.

Mira closed her eyes, listening to Jake’s heartbeat and the steady rain. She knew this changed everything. Bu t right now, with her body still tingling and his cum dripping down her thigh, she could not bring herself to regret it.

Without her realizing it, her long-buried grievances seemed to be easing away. Her eyes turned watery. The lyrics were a bunch of simple and straightforward words, yet she found herself completely absorbed in them. "Whisper of the Silence." Danise smiled. "Lovely song, isn't it?" "Whisper... of the Silence?" A glimmer appeared in her lifeless gaze. "Such a beautiful name. Is this your latest work?" "How I wish. It's Kyle." Staring into her eyes, he continued, "He composed it with hopes that it could reach the ears of somebody he misses."

To know that there are people who were actually interested in what I had written still blows my mind. As you know I haven't updated this story in a while. First I was stuck in a week or week and a half long bought of depression. I've struggled with that and anxiety ever since I was in high school, I just didn't know what it was at the time. I have been on medication which helps however I just get into this little rough patches where I just don't want to do anything. Not clean my house, cook any food, not write, nothing. It sucks a lot to be honest.

The title did not arrive all at once in the body. It arrived the way deep water arrives around a person who has been swimming toward it for years—first as a change in pressure, then as a change in silence, then as the simple fact that the ground underfoot was no longer the same ground.