You Can't Just Say Perchance Romane & Geschichten

‎“No… no, that’s not possible…” ‎

“Not. A. Chance.” I am not giving in and letting either of them win!

His thumb brushed another tear stain from her cheek. (Translation: I know, kiddo. And I'm always with you.) "Lekin zindagi hamesha mushkil khadi karne se pehle ijazat nahin mangti." He spoke calmly. (Translation: But life doesn't always ask for permission before throwing difficulties your way.) "Kabhi mujhe der ho sakti hai. Kabhi main bahut door ho sakta hun. Kabhi..." His jaw tightened briefly. (Translation: Sometimes I might be late. Sometimes I might be very far away. Sometimes...)

“How on earth am I supposed to do the impossible?” ```

Vera sighed. Holding her forehead in disappointment, knowing it’s futile to convince Persephone at the moment. “Whatever you say, I won’t forgive you for stretching this damn journey, it could have ended but…” Persephone hissed, contemplating glistening in her eyes for her. “Do you even know how to destroy a relic, in fact, are you even sure you can destroy one?” Vera smirked, leaning forward to pinch her nerves. But, Persephone wasn’t in the mood for teasing and retorted, “I do recall one can perish along with it; that’s one way.”

It was the only way to understand Lancelot Dankworth. Lancelot fixed his gaze on the window and hissed. "I do not think that is any of your business." He spoke, flatly. "You're right sir, it's not. But, seeing as I had my part to play in making this meeting possible, I thought that I had...well, a chance to see it come to a good end as well." Peter made sure to select his words carefully. The wrong phrase, whether or not it had the right meaning, could have him fired without even a lift of Lancelot's finger. When Lancelot did not reply him, he saw it as a chance to continue speaking.

“I’d like to talk more and stuff… N—not in a weird way, though! I—I mean with Charlotte, too! You get that, right?!” “Relax. I’m not gonna get the wrong idea about you.” “What’s that supposed to mean?!” she jerks her head up, huffing mad. When I see her get ready for a punch, I thrust out a hand, trying to get her to calm down before I speak. “Well, Charlotte is different. She’s a force majeure.” “She’s what?” “Hmm? Oh, force majeure means ‘powers or circumstances that cannot be resisted with human ability.’ Sorry for using such difficult words.”

“I fail to see the difference,Your Grace.” “Somewhere one stands.”

She won’t have a chance to. Please leave a comment and a vote!