That's Not My Neighbor Francis Novels & Stories

Reluctantly, I made my way outside and without even thinking straight, I started heading towards the main door, putting all my final hopes on a miracle. “Going somewhere?” Francis appeared out of the blue, ruffling up his hair a bit as I gave him a pleading look. “Just…out?” “But you just got here.” He raised a brow and I was surprised as to why we were even having this sarcastic conversation. “Look, Francis, just let me go? It’s only a matter of time before one of the Ardelean brothers finds me and-”

Things spiraled out of control and ended in a heated argument with his old friend. The next morning, the hangover left him sick for most of the day. He didn’t remember much of what had happened. Only vague, blurry fragments of an argument surfaced in his mind. It was Francis who cleared his muddled thoughts, explaining that Román, their old friend, and he had gotten into an intense disagreement about casual relationships. Nothing he should worry too much about. Francis’s visit was brief, limited to the weekend. Naturally, he couldn’t escape the long lecture his brother delivered before leaving and returning to Manchester.

I will just bring something when we go home. "And so we can get there right away, I've called someone to pick us up." Mikea guided me to the side of the road near the parked tricycle. "I have also included Francis." "Hello, Milan," Francis, our neighbor who likes Mikea, greeted me with a smile. The two are childhood friends and I know that Francis is head over heels for Mikea. The only thing is, this friend of mine has no interest in the boy, that is why she has told me several times that she can only be friends with him.

He did not expect to be experiencing this when he left his house, and if he had known that things like this would occur to Beatrice, then he wouldn't have sent her to talk things out with them. “That's a compliment that I like hearing,” Violet sneered, rubbing her hand on her knee, which throbbed with so much pain. Francis didn't reply to her; instead, he took out his phone and dialed the one number that could bring results. He felt bad having to call him for help, but then it was he who had asked him to do this. “Hey pal, how are you doing?” he said casually, his left hand covering his mouth as he yawned. His friend's background was noisy, so he could barely hear what he was saying.

And now, barely any time later, here she was again with that same look on her face. It was the middle of the night, but Serena's shouting showed no sign of stopping. My next-door neighbor, Mrs. Wallace, cracked open her window and stuck her head out. "What's all this racket? Nobody's lived in this house for years!" Serena turned on her immediately. "You know Fletcher Whitmore, don't you? Is he hiding somewhere?" Mrs. Wallace squinted at her through thick glasses for a long moment, then let out a slow sound of recognition. "Fletcher? He's been dead nearly three years now."

“Don’t worry. Grandpa isn’t a tiger.” “That’s right. Your grandpa won’t bite me. Both of you can rest easy and go have dinner together,” Francis also interrupted. Matthew brought Christina out, and the private room door was closed. The old master kept staring at Francis as he was too shocked. Never in his dreams had he thought that this Francis was a different Francis. “What’s going on? How did you become Francis?” “It’s a long story.” Francis sat down opposite the old master, picking up his cup to take a sip. His words and behavior were all of refined quality. He was not like the ordinary folks who were usually compliant.

"Go away! This location is reserved for today. Go train on the second floor. You should concentrate on bettering yourself rather than fantasizing.” Following that, Francis couldn't help but mumble to himself as he observed the scattered crowd: "These people have nothing better to do. They have no right to believe they can go after my sister.“

“The fault is mine, Mr. Sandler. We had no idea that Miss Morris is your niece…” Francis’s eyes had settled on Scarlett as soon as she walked out from the detention room. Scarlett shivered at the sight of Francis. She was wondering if sleeping at the police station for the night might have been a better choice. Francis quickly waved goodbye to the police officer and walked out with Scarlett. Sitting in the car, Francis put on his poker face again, and this time, it was even colder. Scarlett got chills down her spine. “Tell me what time it is,” Francis said in an aloof voice. Scarlett glanced at her phone and said,

The girl replied, breathing deeply, in and out. "I didn't." I muttered. "You don't sound like you didn't." Francis said, scowling at me as he spoke. "I said I didn't!" I stated out aloud, meeting his cold gaze. He snorted, perhaps, seeing through my brave facade that I was actually trembling within. The man scared me to death. Where was Leonard now that I needed him? Where was that grumpy fellow? There was no need of wishing for Jeremy, or even Lyon's presence, they couldn't come here. Their station was in the field. Worse, they couldn't possibly fight against Francis.

What Chelsea did was unforgivable, so he is going to make sure that she gets what she deserves. When Francis opened the door expecting the bank manager, but instead, he found Theo. "Theo?" Francis gasped. He was not expecting to see Theo again. Francis did so many things against the Morrison family, he effectively ruined their years of good bond they shared. He didn't immediately notice the officer's standing behind Theo. But when he did, Francis understood that this is not just a casual visit. "Francis" Theo greeted Francis coldly. Francis moved aside to let them inside.