Truth Or Beard Novels & Stories

A light dusting of a beard dotted his cheeks and jaw. “What color is your beard?” she asked abruptly. He blinked before laughing. “Um, it’s kind of reddish blond? But it’s patchy and doesn’t grow in very well, so I always shave it. Why?” “No reason. I like you clean-shaven. It shows off your jaw nicely.” His teeth flashed white as he smiled. “Is that a compliment? I can’t believe it. I thought we were platonic business associates now.” “Don’t push your luck. And anyway, that doesn’t mean I can’t admire my business associate from afar. I’m not blind.”

I smiled. " Good. Now let me tell you that my friends can ask many questions. So be ready, they may tease us mercilessly. We need to look like a normal couple. Will you be able to do it? " " I am good at acting so don't worry. Just don't look at me while I am telling a lie. I may get conscious otherwise. Most importantly, just don't touch me as I am very ticklish. I am not used to anyone touching me so I usually get a jerk. " He smiled mischievously and nodded.

She thoughts she has won because she shouted at him and filled his ears with rumours from jobless people who made gossiping their daily routine as if they will get millions of money or awards for each rumour they made. Rumours are true, people will not see a fire without smoke, they will never say what they didn't see or happened, the problem is they will add a huge portion of lies to it; five per cent of truths they saw or happened and ninety-five per cent of lies, big lies. And the strangest and funniest thing about rumours is that people tend to add their own exaggeration; lies as they gossipped or passed to another person, that person will add his/her own exaggeration; lies and passed to

Then, he said, "Alright. Give me a minute." Ten minutes later, he returned, sounding out of breath. I opened the door a crack, and he stretched his hand inside, keeping his gaze averted. The underwear in the bag was pink, and there were pads for day and night use. I suddenly felt like Chuck owed me too much. He'd always thought buying me pads from the supermarket was humiliating and shameful. How could two people be so different? When I came out, Jordan was waiting for me beside the bed. He didn't know what discharge was, so he thought I was on my period.

I chuckled and asked, "Are you really sure the person in the videos is you?" Frowning, Madison said innocently, "Phoebe, I know you don't like me, but the person in those videos is really me. Although I didn't show my face, look at these hands. Aren't they exactly the same as the ones in the videos?" "Indeed." I nodded. But then, I stretched out my own hands for everyone to see. "Now, take a look at my hands. Aren't they exactly the same as the ones in the videos?"

"Mr. Hayden, back then, the police had already found evidence linking Miss Wood as the murderer. The truth won't change just because you refuse to see it." The words settled like stones in his chest. And deep down, he knew. He had always known. But love has a way of blinding even the clearest eyes. And for three years, he had chosen not to look at the truth.

I never told anyone not even my best friend Stella but the truth is that I have a deep crush on Mark right from The beginning of Senior year but I kept it to myself as I didn't want to get hurt. I like him because he's very talented and smart, he's also very dedicated and committed to his studies, unlike other guys who spend their time playing video games and Playing girls. " Steva? " " Um, Yes. " " What were you thinking that got you so lost? " " Nothing. " I replied shyly, I couldn't possibly tell him that I was thinking of him alright? What would he think of me then? A cheap girl? An easy catch? " Hm, so why did you approach me all of a sudden? " I asked.

“We know there was a girl with you. Where is she?” He's intimidating for sure. The man in front of me is tall, strong, with dark hair and unforgiving blue eyes. He wears leather. It has blood stains on it and soon I know my blood will join the others in a sick decor. But I will never give her up. I could never. “I don't know what you're talking about,” I insist. “I'm on my own. There is no girl. Hurt me all you want but my answer won’t change. There is no girl.”

she responded. With an icy glint in her eyes, Belicia patted Roselyn's shoulder and remarked, "It appears the comments on your video aren't too favorable. Having risen to fame before you, I'm familiar with such misconceptions. Don't let it get to you. Once the noise settles, I'll make sure to clear things up." Matching Belicia's rigid smile with a defiant gaze, Roselyn retorted, "It's fine; I'm not bothered. As you pointed out, it's just a misunderstanding. The truth will reveal itself in time, and I won't be disheartened by this."

Turned. Marc collapsed onto the couch—elbows on knees, head in hands, water still dripping from his hair onto the cushions. “They’re cutting me.” Damien knelt in front of him—hands on Marc’s thighs, steadying, grounding. “They won’t. Not if we fight.” “How?” Marc’s voice broke—cracked open, raw. “Everyone knows now. Photos. Audio. The chain. They’ve got everything.” Damien cupped his face—thumbs brushing wet cheeks, wiping rain and tears Marc hadn’t realized were there. “Then we stop hiding. Joint statement. Truth. We’ve been in love since college. Marriage was paper. No conflict—only love.”