Weird Questions To Ask Novels & Stories

Creeped out, I raised both of my arms up in defeat and asked him awkwardly, "Whyyy are you asking me these questions? He crossed his arms in front of hist chest. "Why should I not be asking you these questions?" I squinted my eyes. "Why are you answering my questions with more questions?" He shrugged. "Why should I not be answering you a question to your questions?" I blinked. "I am honestly kind of confused right now." He continued. "Why are you kind of confused?" "Because why is green not the opposite of pink?" I asked with a nod before putting my own paintbrush down and grab my phone. "Let's ask G****e!"

"What did you want to ask?" "This might sound absolutely ridiculous but let's say you're a werewolf." I watched him for a reaction and got nothing. If it were Reed, he would have said something to put an end to the conversation. "Let's say you and Reed are werewolves and you have one mate. Would you be willing to share?" "What in the world have you been reading?" He asked after a bout of silence. "Answer me." "That's a really weird question. Why would you ask something like that?"

“Uh oh. Let’s hear it.” “I feel like there’s a lot about you I don’t know these days. And I want to fix that. So why don’t we play a game of twenty questions.” He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms. “I get to ask you things too?” “Yeah, of course.” “Okay then. Deal.” I grin, pleased with the success. “Okay, tell me about your travels.” “That’s not a question,” he points out. I stick my tongue out at him. “What’s the most interesting place you’ve ever been to?”

“They are… unconventional. But they are the most important part of this interview.” He paused, his dark eyes locking onto mine, holding me captive. “Let’s begin with Rule Number One: The CEO’s questions are not optional.” He let that sink in for a moment before he asked his first question. “Are you wearing panties right now?” The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The air left my lungs in a silent rush. I stared at him, my mind scrambling, searching for a response. The question was so outrageously, stunningly inappropriate that I was sure I had misheard.

I paused. "You cannot ask any question linked to the previous one...each and every question should be unique...." I said. "Fine" he said. "No uncomfortable question...i will have the choice to abort the question..." I said. "No...its not fair...and there is no such things like uncomfortable between couples..." He said. "But.." i started. "No if and buts...i will not ask you any uncomfortable question...okay?" He said. "Okay. My first question is your happiest moment?" i said.

I don’t want him to think I’m playing him. “Can I ask you a random question?” I say looking at Trevor. He smiles sitting across the table. “Sure.” He says looking at me closely. He has this look of excitement and expectation on his face. I smile nervously not sure I want to take the conversation there. I don’t know how he’s going to react. I can only imagine how mad he’ll be. “Why do you like coffee so much?”I say not asking him the right question. I don’t want to make the situation awkward. But I am curious to know if all boys think like Oliver. I know it’s not fair to make him the yard stick but I can’t help it.

“I should be asking you if there is a problem because this is the fifth time you are passing by. You keep turning in circles, you are obviously lost in worry, “ he pointed out and I immediately felt embarrassed, I hadn't even realized what I was doing. “What is troubling you uncle? Is it your wife? Did you fight with her?” he asked cutely and I shrugged wondering what a boy his age knew to boldly ask such a question. “I am not yet married, “ I replied. “Then is it about your fiance?” “I don't have a fiance yet.” “Is it your girlfriend?” “No, I don't have a girlfriend,” I almost yelled at him, irritated by his unending questions. “Then is it about a woman you like?” He threw another question

I could see his green eyes move; his stare was so intense that my curiosity began to rebel inside me, demanding to know what he was looking at. “How long will you pretend to sleep? Is it a way of saving even more energy?” “No, I’m done. What are you looking at?” Quickly, I brushed it away and rolled over on my back to satisfy my curiosity and hide my slight blush. “Then why do you do it? “ I sighed; why does he always have to ask the weirdest questions? Ask the things most people would not. But I’m beginning to realize I must get used to it, asking the most bizarre and cringiest things.

“Why doesn’t anyone talk about you?” “Why did you leave the family?” “Where have you been all these years?” “Did you know our dad was a bad person?” “Did you ever try to help Mommy?” “Do you hate Grandpa?” “Are we going to see more of you now? “Do you live here?” “How long have you been dating Rohan?” “Do you love him?” “Did you know he loves you?” “Are you going to marry him?” “Are you going to have kids with him?”

My throat felt dry. Why were his questions so strange? And his responses to my answers weren’t satisfying. He suddenly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What would you do,” he asked slowly, “if you found something in the house that could make you rich overnight?” I blinked. This question I didn’t expect. Was he trying to test if I was a thief or something? “I… I don’t understand,” I responded, looking confused. I just didn’t know what to answer him. “A bag of money. Or something extremely valuable. Something that could change your life.” He asked calmly. This made my heart skip a beat. That was a dangerous question. Probably they wanted to know if the person they were employi