Novel & Cerita The Man Who Smiled Book

It was the least she could do after making him uncomfortable. “You don’t have to do that.” The bartender fled and she faced the man with the whiskey voice. His nose was wider than most but his eyes were striking with the long dark eyelashes. Beautiful, even. “Call it my version of an apology. My mood has nothing to do with you. I’ve been on edge all day.” He lifted his drink and took a sip. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” He put down his drink, ran his palm over his thigh then offered it to her. “I’m Smiley.”

His thumb brushed my cheekbone. "What is the problem?" He asked. "You?" I muttered. He smirked hard. "Nothing to worry about." His words should have left a puddle of dread in my stomach.However, they had the opposite effect—sinking Into my skin and leaving a shallow breathless feeling all the way to my toes. The man smiled , a logical part of me wanted to tell about everything. I wanted to let him know about everything about Zale but at the moment—Damn, did I want to give him anything he wanted…

I am really good at one-minute resolution; I can’t even believe myself. “Thank you, for the second time around, you saved me,” he said that made me looked at him. I was stun to see him being unusual. He, the famous alpha guy that everybody dreams of, and the man who has not been smiling throughout his winning were smiling in front of me. And I can’t help but find it…. Aesthetically beautiful… -=-=-=-=- end of chapter 17 -=-=-=-=-=-

Yeah, maybe I did have a resting bitch face. “No one has ever seen you smile,” He spoke, my eyes were glued to the magazine, wishing I could see through it. I wanted to see the man who wanted to hide from me yet had no problem talking to me. “Will you smile for me, Aria?” I was shocked at his question. I couldn’t see him but I heard the smile in his words. A smile. The man wanted a smile. No. He wanted me to smile. For him. I cleared my throat, gripping the straps of handbag tightly as I spoke, “I don’t smile for creeps.”

I had changed into the wedding suit, expressionless, and took Isolde’s hand. A grim smile—more hideous than crying—clung to my face as I completed the ceremony. My thoughts drifted as I stood by the window, looking down at the floors below. This position—the place I had clawed and scraped toward over ten years—was finally mine. A chill ran through me, and suddenly, hands wrapped around me from behind. I jumped, but the scent of cherry blossoms at my nose made me relax. “What were you thinking about? You didn’t even notice me come in,” a light voice whispered in my ear.

"I want the real version. The one you offered." The apartment was very quiet. And then Adrian smiled — not the managed one, not the almost, but the full one, the rare one, the one that arrived without being decided on — and it was warm and tired and long, the smile of a person who had been carrying something a great distance and had finally, in this ordinary Sunday rain, been given somewhere to put it down. "That," he said, "I can do it." End of Chapter Seventeen

he said going back to the magazine in his hands. "Neither did you," I muttered. "I remember asking first,” he countered. I rolled my eyes. "Is it a crime to smile?“ I asked. He dropped the magazine he was reading on his lap and looked up at me. "I never said it was. I just wanted to know the reason behind your smile," he explained. “Well, if you put it like that then-“ “That was how it was," he interjected

He chuckled, his grin still plastered on his face. Forgetting my awkwardness and the silly statement I said a few seconds before, I just smiled at him. "You have a beautiful smile. You should try to smile more, Mr Arnold.", I genuinely meant it. He really looked more beautiful when he smiled. As I said, things deserving appreciation should be appreciated. And right now, I was looking at Mr Arnold's beautiful smile. He seemed to be thinking about what I said. The smile on his face slowly faded and then it was replaced by a smirk."You thought I didn't know to smile?"

The man smiled, cruel and knowing. "Everything".

Smoke drifted up and around his head, looking almost like a halo. He stood and walked toward the clearing’s exit, hands in his pockets, still smiling in a way that sent chills rippling along my spine. Forcing my voice to remain steady, I snarled, “What’s so fucking funny?” The man in yellow grinned, showing evenly spaced, bright white teeth. “Well, here’s th’ thing. Who said anythin about God, boyo?”