The Way Of Tears Mga Nobela at Kwento

Every time Zoey felt like the world was grinding her down, Laurence would infuriate her to the point of tears. In an instant, tears welled in her eyes. This instinct wasn’t something that she could control through sheer willpower. Hurt, pain, and grief pulled mercilessly at her with taut strings. All Zoey could do was try to stop her tears from falling. She looked up, attempting to will those humiliating tears back. She felt like her teeth were about to be worn down from how tight she clenched them. But at last, the tears streamed down her face like lines of pearls. Soon, her face was completely damp.

Tears falling like an neverending waterfall from my eyes. I didn't have to mindlink my father, he already knewn she was gone by the snapping of the mate bond, letting him known she was dead. The screams I heard from my father that night were sounds you would never think a grown man could make. His screams mirroring that of a banshee, ear piercing cries rang through out the bathroom, bouncing off the silver tile walls.

“S-Scarlett…” Scarlett smiled, her tears still streaming down her cheeks. Sharlene tried to touch her daughter on the cheek. “I-I’m sorry,” she apologized. Scarlett shook her head and took her mother’s hand in hers. “Please tell your father that I’m sorry… I-I l-love him…” Scarlett's eyes widened, and she shook her head as she sobbed. “Everything will be fine, mom; let’s go home,” she sobbed. Sharlene wiped Scarlett's tears away with a smile.

🎶Ain't got no tears left to cry so I'm picking it up, I'm picking it up. I'm living 🎶 NO TEARS LEFT TO CRY- ARIANA GRANDE. (WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ABUSE. READ AT OWNERS RISK. I WOULD INDICATE WHEN THE SCENE IS OVER) I froze at the oh-so familiar voice and the pressure applied on the grip to my hand. The same hand drew me up so close, I could perceive the musk I've learned to fear.

She had witnessed his vulnerability and strength intertwined, and she knew that his tears were an expression of a deep longing for the love he had lost. Tiger's shoulders trembled with silent sobs, his grief echoing through the room. Christiana held him close, offering solace through her touch. She understood that sometimes, tears were the only way to release the weight of cherished memories and unspoken emotions. As Tiger's tears subsided, Christiana brushed a strand of hair away from his tear-streaked face. She whispered softly, "Tell me about your childhood, Tiger. Tell me about the moments that shaped you."

It was then that all her memories of before came tumbling in her head. Her body then slides down to the white-tiled that was floor of the bathroom. Her head resting on the cabinet that the sink was in. she began to cry hot and angry tears. But what is done is done. Plus it was only time before he would have claimed her anyways. But still, she had hoped that they could start an actual relationship beforehand.

She then teleports to her room and slams the door shut. Morgan squats on the floor, raffling his hair. Her words feel like swords, making his heart bleed. Subconsciously, tears roll down from the edges of his eyes, turning them red. After some time, he runs to the kitchen, takes out several wines from the wine cellar, and chugs them greedily and nonstop.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, though she had tried to keep her voice steady. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I buried my face in her lap and sobbed uncontrollably, my whole body shaking. She couldn’t console me at first, she was crying too. After a few minutes, I lifted my head. My mother wiped my tears with the edge of her faded blue wrapper. I took a deep breath and said, “But before I leave with Solomon for the city, can I see Efosa? I can’t leave without seeing him.”

******* I paced to and fro in my study trying to get it together. I was having a strange feeling, it was an intriguing, unsettling, stirring combination. It had started from the moment I heard her burst into tears. I had wanted to ignore her. I tried to ignore her but her wails kept ringing in my head, tormenting me. How was I going to be in total control of her if I had caved in to what she wanted just because she cried? I had kissed her because I couldn’t stand seeing those tears. What was this? Was “tears” her way of manipulating men?

She was too shocked, too overwhelmed, too caught between dream and reality to react properly. I pulled back just enough to growl, “You ask too many fucking questions,” staring straight into those wide, glassy eyes darting nervously between mine. Her swollen lips pressed together tightly, trying to trap another moan already clawing its way out. “What’s with the tears?” I rasped when my gaze flicked to the wet trails down her cheek. I reached forward and gently wiped them away with my thumb before cupping her chin and forcing her to look at me when she tried to turn her head, but then she quickly grabbed my wrist.