To My Dearest Historia Novels & Stories

Maaaring matapos na ang kwento natin dito, pero hindi magwawakas ang pagmamahal na alay ko sa'yo. Umalis man ako at iwan kitang mag-isa, mananatili naman ang nag-iisang sandatang magagamit mo sa'yong paglalakabay. Ito ang alaala ng ating nakaraan. Bago ako bumalik sa higaan mo at tuluyang isara ang mga mata ko at damhin muli ang yakap mo, ipapa-alam ko lang sa'yo na ang huling dying list ko ay ipagkaloob sa'yo ang notebook na 'to na magiging alaala ng ating masaya at makulay na kwento.

I forced myself to walk to the side of the road and hailed a cab. “To the airport.” The driver noticed how pale I looked and saw the injuries on me. He asked if I wanted to call the police, but I shook my head and repeated my destination. Outside the car window, the streetlights passed by one after another. It reminded me of when Mom used to hold my hand as a child while we counted the lights together. Back then, she always said, “Freya is the sweetest girl. Mommy loves you the most.”

From the folder, I pulled out a sheet of paper. “Your Honor, I have a record of the chat history between Taylor and Ivy when he was cheating on me. The date is March 8, my third day in the hospital after a miscarriage.” I read out, “Ivy: I miss you. Can you drop by today? “Taylor: I can’t. I need to see the old lady in the hospital. I can’t stand her whining. “Ivy: Come back quick. I bought some new lingerie. “Taylor: Sure thing. I’ll sneak out once she’s asleep. Oh, what do you fancy for breakfast? I’ll pick it up on the way.”

Her mind raced, trying to think of something, anything that would signal to him that this was forced. Then she remembered. When she was little, before everything went wrong, Miguel used to tell her stories at bedtime. Always ending the same way. "And they lived honestly ever after." Not happily. Honestly. It was his way of teaching her that truth mattered more than happiness. She finished the letter with those words. "I hope we can all live honestly ever after. Your daughter, Valentina." She pushed the paper back across the desk. Esteban picked it up, read it, then nodded. "Good. Simple and believable."

he added with a knowing grin and jogged off. My chest twisted, but I smothered the ache. That part of me—the soft, open-hearted idiot who used to believe in love—is long dead. I threw my bag into the bus, shoved some cash at the driver, and dropped into the back seat like I hadn’t just made the worst decision of my life. The hum of the road blurred into the pounding in my head. I was going back to the pack that raised me. Back to the boy who destroyed me. Back to the ghost of who I used to be.

This is the most perfect idea, AL AMANCIA ZADIR, I'M COMING FOR YOU. TBC AUTHORESS JANE LIBRARY ✍️

While holding onto that thought, dropping my butt on the white sands and bursting out crying was the only thing I could do. "Do you want me to tell a story?" Alpha Marco's suddenly appeared behind me. He was not looking at me but at the wide blue ocean in front of us. Then he slightly curved the tip of his lips. "Can that story change history?" I muttered back, trying to ease off to control my tears from falling to my cheeks. Marcos suddenly chuckled and dropped his butt on the white sands next to me. "One day, there was a male wolf who loves to write letters. Every time the world was so mean to him, he always expressed his thoughts through writing..."

You never know if the history of your acquisition can affect your future. That's all for now and I, the Diwata, the Storyteller of The Supernatural Spa, would like to invite you to come back soon for more thrilling stories about the other worlds. Good night and fare thee well...

“Your words, Butterfly, use your words to tell me you understand,” “Yes, Matteo,” I murmur. “Good Girl,” Matteo says, closing on me with his lips. The kiss is tender, and I moan in his mouth. “This just feels so wrong,” I complain. Matteo kisses lightly on my lips, shaking his head in denial. “There is nothing wrong in a man loving a woman,” he tells me. “Not when that man in question is my HistoryProfessor. Stanbury would not accept this,” I utter. “Let me worry about Stanbury, little One, I need you to worry about fixing yourself a ccarryon bag. Everything else will be thrown away,” he explains.

This time lalaki naman siya "Ehem, good afternoon. I'm your History subject for this month. I'm sir Kale Ephialtes." blah blah blah Sinimulan na niya ang discussion niya. Sa Greco-Persian war kami tumigil, specifically sa battle of Salamis. discuss discuss discuss