The Plot In You Shirt 소설 & 이야기

could be. "May, first question is for you. I noticed the gorgeous t-shirt you're wearing. Is there a story behind it?" I blinked. Honestly, the story was too long for me to try and explain to the annoyingly beautiful woman but I did so anyway. "Yes there is. I'm pretty sure you've heard it before but this time it's different. Cinderella isn't running from the prince, instead she is running towards him and in the process, she loses not a shoe but herself. This t-shirt symbolises how I stopped running and decided that no prince was worth losing myself over."

I complete the work of unbuttoning my shirt which I had put on hold at Riley's command. I watch her watch me. I undo all the buttons,then take my eyes off her for a minute as I twist my upper body and throw the shirt to the far back. Her eyes hold a different kind of fire when I look back at her. I would say it is her seeing me shirtless that brings burn to her eyes. But she has seen me shirtless too much to still react this way. A nagging part of me silently whispers to me that she must have seen it.

The shirt fell to the floor. He held my face in his hands, wiping away the tears on it. “Do you still think cloth can protect you from me?” I looked at him, pleading with my eyes. “Pick up your shirt,” he said. I knelt down slowly, still looking up because my face was held in his hands. My fingertips picked up the shirt. "Put it on." He smiled brightly when I put on his shirt. It reached my knees, the sleeves were a little higher than that. "Let's see," he whispered close to my ear. I shivered.

He’s still here. I wiped my tear and opened his wardrobe room. I saw the shirt I had thrown up on in the laundry basket. I looked around his clothes. Everything was black. Expensive watches. Clean style. Strong taste. Then I saw a white shirt. I grabbed it. Can I take it? I didn’t think twice. I took off my dress and put the shirt on. I ran to the mirror. It looked perfect on me. Big on my shoulders. Falling on my thighs. Slightly see-through.

I don’t know why I tortured myself with his clothes but the fantasy of having him close by gave me hope. When I got back down, all the bags had been emptied. Maria and Ann were going through them, while the guys huddled up behind the couch. I tried to listen in on their thoughts but they had blocked me out. They must be discussing Ash, was he back? I felt my heart leap into my throat. Before I could take a step towards them Maria stood up and marched to me holding up a shirt I had bought. “There is a skull on this shirt?” She sounded shocked.

"This shirt looks like yours and this is definitely your style." "No ways Sherlock." I guess the time has arrived that I tell her the truth. "I'm serious. Don't you have this shirt in your wardrobe?" She shows me the picture again and I bite my bottom lip hard. "Ahhh, not anymore. It tore." It is the truth after all, Blake tore it with his muscles.

he asked as she started to pull at the hem of the shirt she was wearing. “I need something to put on the wound to stop the bleeding,” she repeated very patiently. “You're not going to get naked here—” “I'm not!” she exclaimed. “I just need to tear this shirt so... why is this so damn hard to tear? It looks easy in the movies.” He snickered. “Stop. Use this.” And he started to strip his shirt off… his body. “What are you doing?” she asked, very suspiciously. “Use this. It's got blood in my back already, so it doesn’t matter. I have a lot and I can walk shirtless. You can't.”

"Or you can drive home and walk into your apartment with just your bra I mean, I wouldn't mind if I saw you-" I snatched the shirt from him and lightly slapped his cheek as he laughed. "I promise I'll get you a new shirt."He told me. "If she recognizes the shirt, it's on you. I know Beth, she'll have a heart attack." I said. "You can always claim you had the shirt on the whole time and make her think she's crazy." I glared at him. **

How about taking off your clothes? She laughed and looked at me with contempt in her eyes. "One piece for one hundred thousand dollars, how about it?" I was silent for a moment, shaking off her hand. Against Zackary's unbelievable eyes, I took my uniform off and then unbuttoned the shirt. When I was about to unbutton the last one, Zackary furiously overturned the sofa. The heart could no longer withstand the stimulation. Severe pain attacked, and I sprayed out a mouthful of blood. I seemed to be unaware of it, mechanically trembling hands to remove the last shirt to cover shame.

But really, this was one night out of many where what I wanted was to do something alone or why have a business you can't run or hire a manager so shit like this doesn't occur? He tsked. “Might have to ask Steve then. You know what he's doing?” I shrugged. “You have his number.” “Who broke your heart anyway?” he cleared his throat. “And that shirt makes you look fucking gay.” I looked down at my red vintage shirt with leaf prints on it and up to face him. Was anything really wrong with the shirt?