Total Drama Mal Novels & Stories

Is that Malia and Michel are going to get engaged" "What" "What" "What" "What"

Anxiety gripped me like an old friend and sent me into a state of panic. ‘Avery?’ ‘Yeah...’ ‘What’s the matter, Malyshka?’ he grabbed my phone from me and looked at the offending issue. He let out a feral grunt and gave me my phone back, his attention returning to the television. ‘Just ignore him, he’ll go away’

he said. Malia snorted. "You ruined my morning drama, Gabe!" Gabe chuckled softly. As an apology, he held out his smart tablet in front of Malia. "I have a collection of dramas that you can watch there," he offered. Malia brushed off Gabe's helping lightly, shaking her head. "Thank you, Gabe. But your drama collection will not be as interesting as the love and hate drama that is right in front of me." Malia explained seductively.

Malachi was still staring dazedly at the hole in his chest even after Giuseppe pulled out his machete and stepped back to his original spot. Giuseppe laughed scornfully and said, "So this is the standard of Dramon's martial arts? Don't you know how sharp our machetes are? Death is the only mercy you'll get!" Malachi swayed before falling to the ground with a thump.

Lucas disappeared from the kitchen after placing the card on the table. He got to Domus Malum and went straight to his office, slamming the door. He is furious because he was not able to catch the drug dealer and wasted his time trying to help a sick, insane woman for nothing. He chugged a bottle of vodka while he unbuttons his top all the way down, exposing his god-like body. A knock on the door was heard and Zera entered after, she was holding a phone and walked straight to Lucas’ table. “We got a problem,” she announced, and gave the phone to Lucas.

Dane is bad for my soul. I blindly open the jeep, glad I had my backpack on me, and yank out my cell as I slide into the driver's seat. Moving fast as I try to keep my emotional breakdown at bay and am aware my breathing is a hundred times worse than his was. I pull up Elisa’s number and furiously type an erratic message while trying to calm my gasping breaths, now aware that fat droplets of moisture are running down my nose to splosh into my lap. The tears are coming. I don’t feel well. Tell the tutor I went home. I have a headache, and I feel sick. xx