Weird Questions To Ask People Novels & Stories

Her eyes kept roaming round my face and I had no doubt she was being serious but I couldn’t help the laughter that escaped me. She frowned deeply, her angry brows creasing together in a way that made me laugh even more. ‘You doing cheap weed captain?’ ‘What?’ ‘That shit ain’t good for you’. ‘Are you going to answer the question?’ ‘Why would you even ask me that?’ ‘You know what? Forget I asked’. She turned back and resumed walking inside. Girls are weird. Where does one even generate such questions from? ‘Hey captain!’ I called after her. ‘What?’ She spun around

Minghao gaped as soon as he heard him. ‘I’m a man to her?’ Minghao asked this repeatedly in himself. There are seven reasons why people ask questions. First, they just wanted to know the answer. Second, they are testing the person they are asking. Third, they accused the person. Fourth, to impose a delay. Fifth, to express disagreement. Sixth, to exert power. And seventh, to make a statement. But when Eugene asked him the question, Minghao wasn’t sure about his intention for asking; it was as if he’s asking for Minghao to know the answer that he, himself, isn’t aware of.

I sighed. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “For you, I’m an open book.” he said. “So what do you want to know? This should be interesting.” he asked. “I don’t know how interesting it will be. While I’ve never been on a date before, I’ve seen enough movies and traveled around enough to know basic getting to know a person type questions.” I shrugged. “Yes, but what makes it interesting is that someone’s actually going to ask me questions. Not sure if you picked up on this, but most people think my brothers and I are interchangeable anatomically correct Ken dolls.” he shrugged.

My eyes snapped up slightly, my eyes locking onto him as the realization hit me. He was looking straight at me. "My apologies, I didn't quite catch that." “…I’ll repeat my question. What do you think would drive someone to traffic werewolf organs? And who do you think the buyers are?” Out of everyone in this damn room, why was he asking me such questions? Did he know? Was he just trying to bait me? No. He couldn’t. If he knew, this wouldn’t be a question. “I believe that people tend to do… questionable things when they’re pushed into corners.” I answered, keeping my tone neutral. Desperation makes people creative.”

he emphasized. Suddenly, I felt stupid, " umm...I think I should start questioning my childhood" I scratched my head and scrunched my nose up in thoughts. He chuckled, " you're strange" and I smiled, " I'm about to ask a very strange question" I gave him a heads up which he replied by squinting his eyes. I asked, " tight fitting shirts or baggy shirts?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him. He tilted his head and gave me a suspicious look, " why are you asking?"" It's none of your business...just answer" I mirrored his smirk.

I asked the weird man named Samuel. “Well, isn’t it that I am curious about you? I want to learn about you, isn’t that obvious?” My heart paused its rattling as my mind blanked in confusion.

"Yеаh?" I pаuse fоr whаt fееls likе а beаt tоо long, wondеring if I should еvеn аsk thе question thаt's been nаgging mе. Curiosity gеts thе bеttеr оf mе. "Hаve yоu ever treаted аnyone thе wаy yоu treаt mе?"

“You know that is not the answer you are supposed to give? Karen, you can talk to me about anything you know that right?” She hummed in response not saying anything. I thought of the best way to break the ice. “Random questions.” My wolf suggested. I snapped my finger in delight. “Okay, I think I know how we can get you in the mood. Let’s ask random questions while we share the whiskey.” Karen furrowed her brows. “How does that work?” “Just ask whatever comes to mind.” “Okay. So do you think you will ever be happy with Mark?” She asked.

The brown tiles have a wooden effect, and then I start feeling sorry for the poor person whose job it is to keep all this clean. “What’s your skincare routine?” “Do you think you’re going to change him?” “Where do you come from?” “Is the girl your kid?” “What’s wrong with her?” People start invading our space, and some even follow us, openly taking photos and asking questions that I don’t even know the answers to. But should. “Is he big?” “Does he prefer showers or baths?” “What’s his favorite color?” “What size socks does he wear?” “Is he really allergic to latex?”

He screams through tears. I roll my eyes and kick his leg. “I didn’t ask for your backstory, moron.” Sometimes I wonder why people are so damn adamant to talk to me. The questions, of the questions; they never stop. Who are you? How did you get inside my house? Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me? Why are we going to the basement? What are you going to do with that spoon? Shit, they’re so predictable.