Those Who Wait Novels & Stories

the figure said, “We will leave.” Lily’s lips curled quickly and sharply upwards. “YOU WON’T.” “WON’T?” the figure repeated.” “You are WAITING FOR SOMEBODY TO FAIL,” Lily said. “Leaving Now Teaches You Nothing.” The figure looked beyond Lily to Dylan for a second time. Calculations crystallized. “Then we wait,” the figure said.” “For what,” Dylan asked.” “FOR THE PAUSE,” the figure replied. “THE ONE BOTH OF YOU DO NOT WANT.” The two stood silently. The weight of the silence grew.

“That’s what I’m figuring out.” “That’s not good enough.” “I know, but we are getting close.” Silence again. Heavy. Pressing. I looked back at the screen. At the words. “They said ‘give us what we want,’” I whispered. “That means they expect you to respond.” “I won’t.” “What if they don’t wait?” “They’ll wait.” “You don’t know that.” “I do.” I turned to him. “How?” “Because if they wanted to act immediately, they wouldn’t send a message.”

The waiting began. Ernest had observed the waiting across four pieces now — the four pieces Don had sent and the four pieces Don had waited for responses to. He had learned the specific quality of Don's waiting: not the anxious waiting of someone who needed validation, but the alert waiting of someone who had sent a piece into the world and was prepared for the world's response, whatever it might be. Don did not hope for a particular response. He waited to learn what the response was. "The difference between hoping and learning," Ernest said on the second day of waiting.

"I know I haven't shown it. I know I've been a terrible husband." My voice cracked. "But I love you. I've always loved you." Silence. Then she spoke. "If you loved me, you would have fought for me." My chest hurt. "You would have protected me." She took another step. "You would have chosen me." And then she walked away. I didn't follow. For the first time, I understood that chasing her wasn't enough. I had spent five years expecting Lyra to wait. Now she wasn't waiting anymore. I stayed there for hours.

But, when he was about to press the dial button, he stopped again, as if he was terrified. “Just be a little patient. He should be almost here.” The passengers currently sitting in the minibus were all people with high status in society. Usually, others waited for them, not the other way around. They had never been made to wait for someone for such a long time. Gradually, some passengers in the minibus began to get moody. Finally, many of them started to complain, urging the driver to hurry up and drive. They had not paid so much money just to suffer as they sat and waited in this ragged minibus.

"Alpha Marcus. Healer Quinn is waiting for you upstairs." Julian watched them. His whole world spun. That man had the VIP pass Julian was dying for. That man could just walk right in. To see his Harper. Raw jealousy, sharp as snake fangs, sank into his heart. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. Blood welled from his palms, dripping like scarlet petals onto the perfect white snow. Hours ticked by. Alpha Marcus didn't come out. Julian spotted them laughing together in the lobby. Despair and rage boiled inside him. He was losing his damn mind.

For the moment, their side could only wait. Wait for the undertow to stir beneath the still surface. Wait for the enemy to make one wrong move. Wait for fate to crack—just a little—so they could strike.

“So we do nothing?” Jordan met her gaze. “We prepare.” “For what?” “For betrayal,” he said. “Or a warning.” The waiting that followed was worse than action. Every sound felt amplified. Every vibration of a phone felt like a verdict. Grace sat on the edge of the table, knees pulled close, forcing her breathing to stay even. “This is the part they don’t show,” she said quietly. “The waiting.” Jordan nodded. “This is where people break.” She looked at him. “Are you breaking?”

He had never seen Olliver talk to anyone like that before ever. "I did wait. But it was painful to watch you pretending to jot down and work on something that I know would take at least another thirty-four hours." The stranger said, surprising Smith once again. How did this man know what they were working on and how long they had to wait for any reaction? "It's called getting accurate details throughout the experiment. Of course, you wouldn't know anything about that since you barely ever walk out of your office. You might get fat very soon if don't watch out…"

what are you waiting for? Across the street, Maria and Rose are not even trying to hide the fact that they have come to a complete stop in front of my house and have been listening to everything from the beginning and are still waiting for more. What am I waiting for? A childhood sweetheart who made it clear that she doesn't want to go home? A friend who has found love where you always love him since you met him? Crazy dressed in green leggings? Eww no ... - Give me 15 minutes to change.