White Winter By Pentatonix Novels & Stories

Not sure if you know this 🎵🎶 But when we first met I got so nervous I couldn't speak In that very moment I found the one and My life had found its missing piece 🎶🎵🎶 So as long as I live I love you Will have and hold you You look so beautiful in white And from now 'til my very last breath This day I'll cherish You look so beautiful in white Tonight🎶🎵🎶 What we have is timeless🎶🎵 My love is endless And with this ring I Say to the world You're my every reason You're all that I believe in With all my heart I mean every word🎶🎵🎶 So as long as I live I love you Will have and hold you You look so beautiful in white And from now 'til my very last breath This day I'll cherish You look so b

He was dressed in a washed-out white shirt, his frame thin and fragile. Ryan stared at me, his hands clamped tightly over his mouth. Tears silently streamed down his face. When the officiant asked if I took Ethan Whitaker to be my husband, I looked into his gentle eyes and said clearly, "I do." Ethan smiled, gently sliding the diamond band onto my ring finger before leaning down to press a soft kiss against the back of my hand. "The past is already behind you," he said in a voice only I could hear. "Now, you are Mrs. Whitaker."

On the day I was diagnosed with stage four cancer, Vivian Cross handed me a contract for a divorce reality show. I already knew that meant she'd lost another bet to her secretary, Miles Smith. They'd made ninety-nine bets over the years, and every time, Vivian let herself lose on purpose. She lost the house we decorated for our wedding. She lost the wedding itself. She even lost our son's body, handing him over so Miles could satisfy his twisted curiosity about the human body. Our baby had been seven months along when they donated his remains. He'd been so small. Vivian slid the contract across to me, tapping the papers. "Ethan, I lost another bet. It's just a reality show. Help me keep M

a voice whispered. It was a small, trembling sound—the kind of sound a rabbit makes when it's cornered by a pack of wolves. I straightened up, my skin prickling. I didn't think; I just moved. I didn't care that I didn't have a stitch of clothes on. I didn't care that my knuckle tattoos were still red from the cold. I followed the sound toward the back, my bare feet silent on the rubber matting. Miller and two of the freshmen were crowded around a corner. They were laughing, Miller’s large hand braced against a locker, pinning something—someone—into the shadows.

This was their secret life. Just the two of them. “The white night has finally ended. It has lasted a few months, and now the night has come back. The familiar winter will arrive soon…” The summer they thought would last forever finally ended. It was over. And now, the familiar cruel winter was coming for them again.

a request that leaves me flummoxed. What sorcery is this? I confess, me voice barely above a whisper, "I don't have a... phone number." Their eyes go wide, like two full moons shining bright in the night sky, as if I'd just uttered a blasphemy. Winter, bless her quick thinking, whips out a writing utensil from her pocket and grabs me hand. She scribbles some mystical number on me skin, her touch sending shivers down me spine. "Don't forget to call, alright? Let's stay connected," she says with a cheeky wink.

“Zayn MacQuoid, you can’t be this selfish! I’m working hard right now. I can’t have kids!” I compromised to quell her anger. I valued her career, but she resigned so that she could take care of Charles and Caleb better. Besides, she used the money I had saved for retirement for Caleb’s wedding. My leg hurt terribly during that winter, but I was too poor to see a doctor. Moreover, the temperature at home was freezing. It made me shiver. I tried calling Layla for money, but she hung up on me repeatedly. I could not hold on since I was old. In the end, I froze to death.

Neither of us moved. She sang with her eyes closed. The song was gentle and unhurried, about seeds in cold ground and rain that came when you'd almost stopped waiting for it and things pushing up through dark soil toward light they couldn't see yet. She sang it straight through without any of the hesitations that had appeared in the living room rehearsals. Her voice was small and clear and completely certain of itself. Beside me Ethan was absolutely still.

"What now?" "The original gala was supposed to feature a performance by the Vienna String Quartet," Maya said. "They were the main entertainment and they just cancelled." "Can we get someone else?" I asked. "Not anyone of that caliber on three weeks notice," Maya said. "Every major performer is already booked for the holidays." I rubbed my temples. "Okay, so we skip the live entertainment. Make it more about networking and less about performance." "That could work," Maya said hesitantly. "But the guests were expecting something special."

Winter stopped, and General stopped beside her. She stood beneath the porch, sunlight spilling over her. Then she turned back to look at Mr. White, who remained inside, just out of reach of the sun. Her throat tightened. “Mr. White, why are you asking me that?” Mr. White took a few steps forward. His voice sounded even hoarser than usual. “You look unhappy.” Before Winter had first come to the Xander estate, Mr. White had been in a car accident. The car had exploded, leaving burns on his face and damaging his vocal cords.