Why Can't Black Noir Talk Novels & Stories

Still, he sounded like he was in pain, no matter the amount of mirth he tried to use to mask it. Heavy footsteps on the basement stairs announced Noir before he appeared in the hallway. His long black hair was still loose, falling around his shoulders in dark waves that made him look wild. Untamed. His mismatched eyes swept over Silas, his eyes taking in every injury with an unreadable expression. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, I can never really tell what he's thinking. "Glad you didn't die," Noir said, his voice flat and emotionless, but I knew better when I saw the slight tick in his jaw. He was worried, just as much as we all were.

He calls my name and it sounds foreign and different as it rolls off his tongue. Naomi… " Yeah, we should talk about our kiss." Thankfully my voice doesn't betray me. I sound as if this position that we're in doesn't affect me. Why the hell am I not even an actress again? " We can't, Mr. Black." " Don't call me that." He whispers. " Well, except we are with other people." He says.

As he spoke, his gaze briefly averted to his parents. Belle was now visibly flushed, staring anywhere but at him. Ethan, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered—almost amused. Neo’s expression remained calm, but his eyes carried a quiet message: *Handle it before we go out.* Then, without another word, he carried Brie toward the door. The moment it clicked shut, silence filled the room. Belle immediately buried her face into the pillow, letting out a long, mortified sigh. Ethan chuckled softly beside her.

- River lies on his couch, pondering the ceiling while E Business plays on the television set—showing an ad for some random moisturizer. He checks his phone, then lays it back on his chest, not even a grimace on his face for he was too weary. A second later, the advertisement finishes and begins playing live coverage of Sebastian Black, speaking to the press outside of the Black & Co. building.

I mumbled softly, tilting my head a little. Luke smiled softly, "Because... when Noah looks at you, it's like he's been living in a black and white universe and he just saw colours for the first time. These past weeks not being able to talk to you, all the colour in his life just went away and it's back to black and white and all he's been trying to do is remember what life was like before he knew what colour was." I took a moment, a little stunned before I spoke calmly, "When did you become so deep and poetic?" I tried to ignore what Luke had just said but it was very difficult to do so.

“I’ve heard that phrase before, but what does it mean?” “It’s an old superstition,” said Kriss. “Some people believe noir is this force that makes you turn evil,” said Eli. Ryland nodded. “Many vampires still believe it’s some kind of outside force. They prefer to believe that rather than accept the truth, which is our animalistic nature often overwhelms us. We lost so many to noir because we were only a step above our animal selves. We were driven by bloodlust and madness, and by our own selfish needs. It’s no wonder so many went bad.”

another suggested. “No, how long can we survive out there?” a third replied coldly. “Besided none of the soldiers spoke, not even under torture. It’s like they made some unbreakable covenant with their master.” “Or he took away their voices,” the leader murmured, her tone low and thoughtful. “He doesn’t seem ordinary. No one could endure that kind of pain and stay silent. No one.” Silence fell. Then someone dared to ask again, “So… what now?”

“Come on, Bruno. You can trust me. Just a little insight? It could benefit us both. Aren't you as curious as I am?” Even in his state of disorientation, he was a bit conscious. He looked at Black, but his vision was blurry and he could not see who it was clearly. "What are you talking about?" He muttered, breathing heavily. "The elite men, Bruno." "The elite men..I don't know," he said, trying to get up. Black's smirk faltered, he coiled his fingers into a boil, as he tried to hold himself back. He smiled, and replied, “Relax, Bruno. I’m just curious. No harm in asking, right? Talk to me, don't you know even a little thing about them?”

"Vincent is my friend. Of course, I care if he has a child. "I heard your family background is... modest. You should hurry up and have a baby—then you'll never have to worry about money again." "Sorry, but whether I get pregnant or not has nothing to do with you. You should focus on your own health—wouldn't want to drop dead unexpectedly." "Enough, Sophia!" Vincent snapped. "You can't talk to Emma like that! She's just telling the truth. Apologize." I stayed silent. Vincent exhaled, then turned to Emma, his tone softer. "She has no manners—people from her background tend to be crass.