Text Faces Novels & Stories

Тургенев, Рудин. 1. Произведение печати (в старину — также рукопись) в виде сброшюрованных, переплетенных вместе листов с каким-л. текстом. Книга большого формата. Толстая книга. Раскрыть книгу. □ [Аночке] предложили посмотреть книгу с картинками. Федин, Первые радости. || Сочинение, произведение более или менее значительного объема, напечатанное отдельным изданием или предназначенное для него. Интересная книга. Написать книгу. □ Наталья должна была каждое утро читать исторические книги, путешествия и другие назидательные соч инения. Тургенев, Рудин.

The day I was released from prison, I was wearing old clothes that had been washed so many times they had lost their color. I was so thin that I was little more than skin and bones. I looked nothing like the bright, handsome Carter Quince I had been five years ago. Riley West was waiting outside in her car. “Carter, you’re finally out.” I looked up, revealing a face that wasn’t mine, covered in scars. There was even the word "trash" carved into it.

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I chuckled and leaned in closer to his face, bending my knees. "Watashihadare?” [Who am I?] I burst out laughing at the thought that my own people have no idea who I am. Oh, right! My tattoo. I removed the silicone cosmetics that had covered my face tattoo. His eyes widened even more when I removed the cover, and because of the dark surroundings, it slowly glows. "R-Ranshio Violet! Mōshiwakearimasen! Watashi o yurushitekudasai watashi no oroka-sa no tame ni!"

Comment your scores. It had three hundred comments already. Ava stared at the screen, at her own face frozen mid-reaction in the video thumbnail, caught in the exact half-second after Mason's words had landed and before she had managed to compose her response, and the expression on her face in that frozen frame was not the controlled, composed Ava Bennett the school had spent three years learning to expect. It was something rawer. Something that looked, uncomfortably, like it had actually hurt.

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she laughs "like they say these days faking it in style." I give her a confused look "what?" "You know, when you're in a fake relationship, these days that's what everyone's doing." "Well, I'm only doing this for mom, and trust me I will not develop falling for him." "My dear friend, you're saying that now, but when the time comes you'll be dying for his touch, his kiss, his scent, his di- ah" I shot her with Levi's water gun. That damn dirty mouth girl. "Charlotte you bitch," she curses, ask I continue to shot her.

A text. "Hey," Him.

Those eyes reminded her of everything brown — the coffee. Crinkles usually formed underneath and beside his eyes whenever he cackled. Those crinkles got her thinking if he was older than he looked, because, asides the crinkles, his porcelain skin always shone with youthfulness and vibrance, the kind of vibrance that radiated from a healthy teenager. " ... want some berries?" Dr Jake offered her a bowl of red berries. Rosaleen gave a soft, close-tipped smile which the young man couldn't discern if it was an approval.

Just clocked out. My bestie, Chloe, texted. Begging me to go wild with her at a bar. I collapsed onto my bed. Exhausted. “No way. My legs are jelly. I can’t tonight.” I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection. Pale. Drained. Suddenly, I knew I needed a release. Anything to forget my inhuman, tyrant werewolf boss. I grabbed my phone again, ready to text Chloe. I wanted to type: “My whole body aches. No energy for the bar. I desperately need a rough, deep-tissue massage session tonight.” But my brain was fried. I just typed: “Just need a rough, deep session tonight.” Five minutes later, my screen lit up. But it wasn't a message from Chloe. It was from my cold, untouchable A