Texting Story Novels & Stories

“Goddess forbid I’m busy. It’s not like I run an entire pack or anything.” “Oh ha ha. Can’t spare time for an old childhood friend. You know what they invented. Texting. You know, send a message and you don’t need to answer it right away. It’s like a letter, but faster.” “I’m sorry. Really. I will make sure to text more often than I do.” I continued drawing the line as I headed east. “But you know, it’s a two-way street. You could have called and you didn’t.”

_Freya’s POV_ Three days. That was how long it had been since the wedding, and Maxine and I had been texting. Not talking. Texting. There was a difference and it mattered, even if I was the only one who thought so. Talking implied something I wasn’t prepared to put a name to yet. Texting was just words on a screen. Anyone could do that. It meant nothing. The problem was that he was funny.

_*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "I know what that means," she said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> He exhaled. Something in it that was found. "Fine," he said. "We do nothing." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "We do nothing," she said. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> They ate. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> By two in the afternoon the screenshot had moved through three more group chats. By three-fifteen someone had replied with the full story, beginning to end – everything that had followed the accidental text. By four, the narrative had shifted.

I decide as I get up from the sofa to pick up my phone and talk to him before I will start explaining stories that touch later when Brian comes back from the office. “Now how do I start this message?” I critically ponder as soon as I pick up my phone. “Sending me a message will save me a lot of stress, More so it is very unlikely that I will be making a fool of myself while texting on the same way I will when I am texting” I decide as I launch my iMessage because Brian can’t judge my tone from texting the way he will be able to judge when I call. “Good afternoon” I start my text because greeting him only sounds proper

Jenny took out her phone and started to write a short message and then she sent that text to a contact that she had saved in her phone as anonymous. (Now something is going to be fishy, you're thinking why would someone save an anonymous contact in his/her phone, and not just this even sending messages to a person you don't even know. But I know why? It's simple that she doesn't want to tell anybody and also she doesn't want anybody to find whom she's texting the messages. But don't worry, the Narrator will explain each and everything when the right time will arrive).

“You scared the poor boy, dude.” That was the first response he got from Damien Lau after he finished telling the whole story. The doctor visited him today, and he served some mineral waters to him. He was just a bachelor who didn’t really care about food at home and only had mineral waters with him. Despite being a bad host, the painter still dared to pour his heart out by telling the story that bothered him since yesterday. Yeah, he had told his friend about his ‘experience’ with his student yesterday.

Spill it! I chuckled, the simple act of texting her already lightening my mood. I typed out a quick summary of the day’s chaos, leaving out the more sensitive details about Miracle and Lucas’s punishment. Moments later, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. Anna. I answered immediately. “You just couldn’t wait for me to finish texting, could you?” “Of course not!” she exclaimed. “Now, tell me everything—every single juicy detail.” I laughed, settling back against my pillows as I began to recount the events. Anna’s reactions were as dramatic as ever, gasping and groaning at all the right moments.

I opened the I*******m app and started scrolling through the posts. As a teen model and I*******m influencer, I am quite popular. I recently got verified on I*******m with 1.5 million followers. I commented on and liked some of my friend's posts. I suddenly remembered that Amara gave me her number. I decided to text her on W******p. Me. Yo! What's up? Amara.😇🥰💗💝 Oh, hi Ade. I'm good. Just bored. What about you?

I picked my phone out of my bag, and without much thought, I sent a text. “Please meet me at the pack healing center, I have something to tell you.”

I put my phone down after Adrian’s text and sat with the quiet of it for a moment. Good. Me too. Two words. But they landed the way two words can when they carry everything that has not been said for a very long time behind them. I went to bed that night with them still sitting somewhere in my chest, warm and unhurried, and I slept well, which had become its own kind of measure. The story broke the next morning at six forty-three, and by nine fifteen my phone had