What Do You Want From The Notebook Novels & Stories

The woollen threads seemed serrated, leaving her fingertips raw with a stinging, abrasive itch. Lara noticed that whenever the inmates attempted to speak, the guards’ screams instantly shattered the air. With nothing else to occupy her mind, she raised her eyes and turned her head slightly whenever the overseers looked away. She sought to find the woman she had pushed, though she could not discern if her gaze held fear or a silent plea for forgiveness. As she turned her head further to the right, she caught sight of her and fixed her stare upon her. The woman’s gaze was resentful, while Lara’s was broken, devoid of any intent save for an apology. The woman merely lowered her head back to the

Khanna POV “This had better be good.” I say before giving Len the floor. I have a rough idea of what he wants to talk to me about, last time he asked for a meeting like this it was to try to get me to move to his pack. While I respect him and I understand that the idea came from a place of caring, I did not and do not wish to reside there.

Then she narrowed her eyes toward me. “You startled me.” Guilty people always reacted exactly like that. My eyes drifted toward the notebook. Then my smile widened considerably. Because now I definitely wanted to read it. Very badly. I moved quickly. One hand smoothly wrapped around the notebook. Then I effortlessly removed it from her grasp. The shocked expression that followed nearly destroyed my remaining self-control. “Give that back Lukas.” I ignored the demand completely. Then I casually opened the notebook. I began reading. The deeper I read, the more entertained I became.

"Those are objects. Objects can go on vacation." "The notebook is an active investigation tool" "The notebook is a personal item that belonged to my father," I said. "It happens to also be an active investigation tool." He looked at me. "You're not going to look at it," he said. "Probably not," I said. "Maya...." "There's a reasonable chance I won't look at it," I said. He crossed the room. Put his hands on my face...

I whispered. "Oh, too bad then. I guess I'll just eat alone." "And I'll gladly watch you," I said, and we both laughed. Jeremiah settled down to eat, while I watched him, my mind lingered deeply on that notebook and the hateful words in it. "Where can I see the boy who owns the notebook?" I asked. "Why do you want to see him?" Jeremiah asked, his voice a little different from how calm it used to be. "I want to meet him so I can know why he hates the vampires," I whispered.

I sat at the table and wrapped my hands around the cup and we were quiet for a moment in the way we were quiet, companionably, without the silence being something either of us needed to fill. "He wants to talk to me," I said. "Martin." She looked at me over her cup. "I know. I heard Felix in the hall." She paused. "Are you going to?" "Yes." She nodded slowly. Not approving, exactly. Not disapproving. Processing. "Do you know what you want from it?" I thought about it honestly. "Information," I said. "The things in that notebook, the things that aren't. The whole shape of it."

Vincent said softly from the chair beside me, breaking my focus. He leaned over, tapping the edge of my tablet with his pen. "Relax. Take a deep breath.” "I just want this over with, Vincent," I whispered back, adjusting the collar of my blazer with trembling fingers. "The atmosphere in this place is completely suffocating. It feels like the walls are watching us."

she thought to herself. “How do you know I’m not the right person?” Nathaniel asked staring into her soul that Rosalyn had to look away. She hated the power that he had over her. “Well for starters, I don’t know anything about you,” Rosalyn said with a small smile on her face. She pulled out some two boxes of noddles from her cabinet. That was going to be their dinner. “What do you want to know?” Nathaniel asked. He could not believe he was having this conversation with her. He had not held a conversation with any other female in years.

" Peach held out her palm to get what she needed. "Nope. I'm just gonna give this to you if you will agree to the payment that I want. You know, you need to pay me for finding your precious notebook." Peach's face wrinkled even more. All she knows is she need to get her notebook. My life depends on it.

The woman who got it. She reached into her bag. She pulled out a notebook of her own. It was blank. The pages smelled new. She opened it. She looked at the first page for a while. The white space stared back. Clean. Empty. Ready. She held the pen in her hand. The plastic felt smooth between her fingers. She clicked it once. The sound was small in the plane noise. Then she wrote: "Things I want. There are not things I want to take."