Time And Him Are Just Right の小説・ストーリー

things doing things. 🌶︎🌶︎🌶︎🌶︎ I had been laying with my head on his stomach for maybe half an hour … maybe forever, I lost all semblance of time. “This is so nice, I mean, I feel like we can be ourselves with each other. It’s comfortable. We don’t have to be fake, you know? I mean yeah , we don’t know each other very well still but that will all come in time, and I’m not in a hurry,” he says, all casual.

On our terms. In our time.

He looked at his watch, and as soon as the time clocked 10 pm, he said to himself: “It's showtime.”

After some time, we arrive at our favourite cafe; we sit at the table which was on the right side beside the glass window. We can see outside clearly through the window... We ordered our favourite coffee (CAFFÈ LATTE and CAPPUCCINO). My favourite is CAFFÈ LATTE and as for max, his favourite one is CAPPUCCINO... I feel so peaceful and fresh. No dramas, no annoying voice, nothing, only peace... ꧁__________________________________

“You don’t have to worry if there’d be someone to wait for you, because I’ll always be here. And when the time’s finally right, I’ll be there. To meet you halfway.” I burst into tears after hearing what he said that I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him into a hug. “I might get the wrong idea,” he joked, patting my shoulder as if he was scared to wrap his arms around me. Maybe thinking I was too fragile and I might just break all of a sudden. I chuckled, “When the time’s right,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ll make up my mind so we won’t regret anything, okay?” He pulled away from the hug and smiled, “When the time’s right.”

“Would you like to know the time?” “Uh, yeah.” “Um…” He kept his eyes on the watch. “It’s three hours past noon.” He informed me. I pursed my lips. “Seriously? So you’re one of those people that tell time like that?” I chuckled. “Just say it’s three pm or something.” I continued to chuckle. “Well, I like to appear mysterious.” He wiggled his eyebrows before laughing lightly. He had a great laugh. And I had to keep reminding myself to focus because I was continuously distracted by his attractiveness.

She lifted her head. Looked at him in the dark. “Now?” she said. “Yes,” he said. He reached across to the nightstand. She heard the drawer. He came back. She looked at his hand. At what was in it. Small. Simple. A ring. Not elaborate, not performing anything. Just a ring. Gold and clean and entirely itself. She stared at it. Then at him. “You said when the time was right,” she said. “Yes,” he said. “It’s 11PM on a Friday,” she said.

So he would just be patient enough and wait for the right time which was no other time, but that evening. Evening was always like the time they both come together as mates, and bond something, but also argue other times. But all the same, evenings are always their time together, so no matter what had happened during the day time between them both, they would always fix it at night. Though they won't really be all loving towards each other, somehow they were a little compatible, and would act like they were mates, in the evening. That was really something good enough for him, and he really likes it. So he really can't wait for night time to finally come, so he could have all the time in the w

This would be bad if I ended up being so spoiled. “The couple clothes we wore… you remember the brown matching outfit?” “We had matching outfits?? I do remember you wearing brown tho…” Brown… hmm… brown outfit? I… I remember he is surely wearing cream and brown. But I don’t remember what I am wearing- “Cream coffee cotton jacket and brown sando top. Black leather boots and jeans” “…?!” “You surely remember it so well, I don’t even remember what I am wearing that time… hmm?” He just answered me with a smile.

"This surgery has to be done by Dr. Dover. Call him right away. If he's not here in an hour, the patient won't make it." That's what they said the first time. And here I was, right back in this moment. Eleanor barely hanging on, her frail body like a breath away from collapse. The whole room buzzed with panic. I grabbed my phone, heading for the door, but then—it hit me. Johnny. His blade. The memory of my stomach tearing open like shredded wrapping paper, his grief-twisted face, the searing pain.