The Poet X Quotes With Page Numbers Novels & Stories

"But it's an honest one." He turned back to the book and found the page he was looking for without searching, the way you find things you have visited many times. He read aloud in a voice low enough that it belonged only to this aisle, to this twelve inches of space between his mouth and my ear. "Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art. Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night. And watching, with eternal lids apart, like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite."

"You make it sound so easy." "I'm not saying it's easy. I'm saying it's possible." Derek's thumb traces across my knuckles. "And I'm saying you're brave enough to do it." "How do you know?" "Because you're here. Because you wrote poetry today instead of sitting alone waiting for Alexander to call. Because you looked at that sculpture and saw yourself in it." My phone buzzes on the coffee table. Alexander's name flashes on the screen. This time, I don't even flinch.

By noon, we were standing in front of a graffiti-covered door in what might have been the sketchiest neighborhood in the state. "This is the place?" I eyed the crumbling brick building. "You're sure?" "For the thirtieth time today," Xavier sighed, but I caught the way his lips twitched. "Yes." "Then knock already." I crossed my arms. He gave me that infuriating smirk. "As my beautiful mate commands." Before I could retaliate, the door's viewing slot snapped open. A pair of dark eyes glared out. "State your business." Xavier stepped forward. "In fields I grow, tall and bright. Golden kernels in the light."

Drake cleared his throat. "Open page number 139," He said and turned to the table. I took out the book from my backpack quickly, I didn't want to upset him, though his anger wasn't directed at me.

“Xander, I swear to—“ “His throbbing cock traces her wet cunt, making her cry out—“ I scream his name louder, pushing my body to move. It doesn’t heed to my command and I’m still stuck in place, trying to push through a wall I cannot see. “Harder, Zade, harder.” He says in a high pitched voice, trying to mimic that of a woman’s. I would have laughed at how ridiculous he sounded if I wasn’t mortified. I could have sworn the words didn’t sound that dirty when I was reading them. “Take that dirty whore, cum all over your daddy’s cock?” Xander finishes with a note of question, he looks up and our eyes meet. There is amusement and something else in his. He closes the book and I let out a sigh of

Xavier looks at the door and looks back at Cole. "He's...he's going...to...h...hurt us Cole, especially me." Xavier says shutting his eyes. Seeing Xavier like this hurt Cole. It hurt more than the pain in his body right now. "What's important to you?" Cole asks sternly. Xavier was caught by surprise and looked at Cole quizzically. "In this room, what is important to you?" Cole repeats. Xavier looks around his room. His eyes get caught on his poetry book. "My book." He softly says, smiling.

Author P.O.V. Xander sat on his bed thinking about the time they spent together, everything looked like a dream to him. He pinched himself occasionally in a bid to know if it was a dream. He looked at his phone occasionally, waiting for her call but her call never came. The memories of the first time he met her at the club, kept on playing in his head. Her smiling face, beautiful curved pink lips, blue cat eyes. He found himself smiling as he remembered how childish she do laugh, during their conversations. Her smooth feminine voice which bright up his days. Now it was all gone, she left him alone, to face the ugly art of mourning. Xander wrapped his hands around himself, as tears f

Not one, but two pairs of them. “Isn’t this a pretty picture?” Emily’s voice sliced through the stillness, laced with mockery. I pressed my eyes shut, and for a quick second, all I wanted was to merge with the bench I was currently sitting on, but I knew it was next to impossible. “The great Lyra, hiding among the flowers. Almost poetic, don’t you think, Xander?” “Poetic, yes.”Xander’s laugh was low and cold, it sent shivers down my spine. “Pathetic, more like.”

I’ve already come this far, why not? Chapter 1:5 Why Not, Xoxo Nyx

He reached for a slim book on the nightstand and began reading softly—not about business or law, but a collection of short poems. “I didn’t know you read poetry,” Liora commented, resting her head. “I wanted to try it, for you.” Xavier read verse after verse in his low, steady voice. At last, Liora closed her eyes, peace settling over her. “Xavier?” she mumbled, half-asleep. “Hm?” “Don’t leave me, not even for a moment.” “I won’t leave. Sleep. I’m here.” And he meant it. The entire night, Xavier did not move away. One hand stroked her belly, the other held her fingers. He watched her face for a long time, as if engraving every second into his memory.