That's Not My Neighbor Francis Mga Nobela at Kwento

I dialed again, my eyes scanning the street out of habit but suddenly, my eyes fell on a group of men I didn’t recognize, standing at a lonely corner and to my greatest shock, Francis was part of them. These men didn’t look like teenagers even. Moreover, I could not recognize any no matter how hard I tried. I could tell they weren’t from Evosphere, Harrington, or his company, Zentara. Their faces were unfamiliar and Francis was deep in conversation with them.

They didn't respond quickly to the knock, only just recovering from John's, and the person at the door wasn't thinking about waiting. Margret was once again stunned by the presence of Francis, her neighbor's son in her living room. Francis and his family had been in the neighborhood long before Margret and her mum moved in. They were as all good neighbors were, quiet and helpful but most of all nosy. Francis was a year older than she was, now serving as an apprentice in a barbers shop after he gave up on schooling, dropping out in SS2. Margret was surprised then that it took him that long to realize that he was wasting his parent's money. But then, he seemed to have the IQ of an eight-year-o

"I had a great night with you, Kylie. I want to play with you all over again." Oh my God! What happened?! I messed up! And of all people, why is it Jiro's little brother Kent, who's my neighbor. Out of frustration, I passed out! To be continued...

Nadia sat beside me, her fingers still fidgeting with the strap of her bag, the leftover adrenaline working its way out of her system slowly. Francis pulled a chair around and sat facing us, his elbows on his knees. Comfortable. Unhurried. “That man you hit,” he said, keeping his voice low enough that it didn’t carry any strain.. “You know who he is?” I took a sip. “Someone who needed hitting.” Francis smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He runs with a crew. Not good people. The kind that don’t let things go, you understand? He’ll be back with friends.”

The feel of Francis's lips couldn't leave my head. I hissed, closing the book up. A knock on the door startled me. Well, maybe we'd be seeing each other sooner than intended. “Come in,” I said, He pulled the door, but stood right there. “I'm heading out, and probably won't be back till tomorrow.” “Oh, where are you going?” I asked, “I have a few errands to run.” It was the first time Francis ever gave me a vague answer. I looked at his feet. He was trying to ensure that nothing made him step into the room.

“No we were getting to know each other’s first. But I assure you cousin that Greg is a good man. Let’s see. I said.

Norris could do better. Ok, Stop... Not my problem. “I heard that hot new transfer is your neighbor.” WHAT?? Has his house address leaked already? “New Transfer?” I am not gonna admit I know him. It will end up with the same signature question. Are you planning to fuck him, too? Not exact words, but something subtle. “Oh, come on! He lives somewhere near the lake. You live there too… Rich people!!” I roll my eyes. There must be hundreds of houses and not everyone there is well off.

Francis only chuckled at me but then started to get into the mood and moved along with me. "You really love country music huh?" "Well I don't usually listen to it but this one is great, I replied before turning up the volume a bit more. Francis seemed suprised but remained quiet as he continued to move along with me. ~~~~ As Francis drove up in the yard I was greeted with the sound and laughter of kids who were running around at each other. After I exited the car I almost fell on the grass from the impact of a little girl grabbing my legs. She hugged them and smiled up at me. I couldn't help but smile and touched her hair.

Restless and unfulfilled, I grabbed my smokes and a lighter and headed out to the stairwell for a puff. Just as my hand touched the door to the stairwell, I heard a faint, frantic moaning. At first, I thought it was just a cat in heat. Then, a familiar scent hit me. It was a perfume that immediately made me think of my charming neighbor from next door, Demi Wilson. Every time I ran into her, that sweet, intoxicating scent always arrived first. Then came the flash of a red slip dress or perhaps a bodycon dress, with a neckline plunging incredibly low.

Footsteps. Then the door opened. Francis stood there, blinking like he’d seen a ghost. His face twisted—first shock, then suspicion, then something darker. “You didn’t die,” he said slowly, almost in awe. “You fell off that building. I saw it. From that height... that’s death, Yasmine.” I tilted my head slightly, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. “Maybe I had a demon behind me,” I said. “Or maybe someone up there still thinks I have unfinished business.”