Ronan tugged Adam in for a kiss before he could get a word out. God, he had missed this. Adam was solid and warm even through the thickness of the coat, and the tension between Ronan’s lungs that he had learned to ignore eased away. Adam was home, and Ronan was kissing him, and all was right in the world.
Adam pulled away after a few second, his cheeks flushed with cold and surprise. He smiled at Ronan, laughing a little, then glanced down and froze. This confused Ronan.
“Ronan. Ronan, are you barefoot?”
“Uh…” Ronan glanced down, just to make sure; it was hard to tell when he couldn’t feel them. “Yes?”
“Then why are you – Jesus Christ, Lynch, get in the house! You’re going to get frostbite!”
Ronan laughed as Adam pushed at his shoulder,
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It was rather unfair.
“Let me get my bags from the car, and then I’ll make sure you don’t catch frostbite.” When Ronan moved to stand, Adam had to catch him before he fell. Standing up with numb feet was more difficult than Ronan would have thought.
Ronan lay back on the couch, sighing contentedly. Adam was back, probably stressed out as usual, and definitely more of a mother hen than he had been when he had left, but it was cute. Now that he had been reassured that yes, Adam would come back and no, he wasn’t going to come back just to say that he’d found someone less mentally fucked and more deserving of him, the previous night of sleeplessness was hitting Ronan hard. The downside of a regular sleep schedule was that missing a night of sleep had an actual impact on Ronan’s ability to function the next day. It was kind of a pain in the ass.
He must’ve drifted off, because the next thing Ronan knew, he was very warm and he could feel his feet again. Cracking his eyes open, Ronan realized that he had been wrapped in blankets and Adam was trying to worm his way beneath them as
Fiona covered her mouth and hugged Jonas. She went to check on Gabe as he was lying in bed and later went to look at the giver. “What did he tell you,” Fiona asked.
One aspect of reading that I enjoy is getting so wrapped up in the story. When the character's heart pounds, my heart pounds. When they hold their breath, I hold my breath. It feels like I'm there in the story. I get absorbed in the plot and take in every detail. A challenge I have regarding reading is that I tend to stop in the middle of a series if the beginning of the book isn't very interesting. I want to read further, but I end up procrastinating until it gets lost under my bed. I am hoping to improve my reading this year by remembering to look up word I don't know. This will help me to better understand whatever story I am reading. My favorite text from last year was definitely The Book Thief. This compelling novel always kept me on the
"I love you, Allie!" Mark's voice came through the trees. Even through the pounding hooves and sound of the ultralight, the words were surprisingly distinct.
I’ve always taken after my dad, so it should not have been a surprise when my reading habits took after him too. My whole life I have been able to sit and read for hours on end without disturbance, however as I began to read your book The Book Thief I felt a shift. It wasn't your book per say. It was more like the entrance to a new era. The hours I spent on the fantastical worlds turned into minutes, and the time I spent with my mom became time spent with my father. It just took your book to realize what was truly happening. I was growing up.
After a moment, Neil rolled over with a sleepily lazy smile. Andrew’s heart froze. Neil reached out and gently carded his hand once through Andrew’s hair, then hovered his palm over Andrew’s cheek.
I hurt everywhere. I try to slowly open my eyes but it is so hard, the blinding light hurts my head, I slowly peel my eyes open to find myself in a strange bathroom. Everything is old and dirty looking and I don’t mean dirty like “when my mom told me to clean my bathroom and there was only a ponytail on the sink and a few boy pins, dirty,” I mean it looked as if nobody had cleaned this bathroom in 15 years and still people used it. Once I establish myself, my eyes begin to wander, I am in a stained tub with all of my clothes still on me.
Dan raised his arm and asked, "Do I have one back here too? It feels like there is something there, but I can't see it." I swallowed and nodded.
One sunny, cold winter day, two boys named Zane and Dusty went to the park to play in the snow. Their parents told them to stay away from the wall ledge.
Josh let go of the thought with a sharp exhale. With that one simple breath he'd been to loud to pretend to keep sleeping.
Moving your body makes your position change; you're physically not where you just were. Moving your life gives you a life change; you're not going to be in the same mental space as you once were.
I hear my name being called from upstairs what have I done now I said to
I could feel my tiny feet embrace my family 's short, dirty brown carpet. The cool air tickled my skin to form goosebumps. My eyes took in the yellow-white paint that was peeling off at the base of the floor. It was dark outside, but the lamp light was on. My eyes wandered to my mother 's face, with her eyebrows squished together. I thought she 's mad or worried. Her warm and big hands were on my shoulders. I can faintly smell her sweet shampoo. She parted her lips and said, "We are going to a new home. I want you to go pack your stuff." She ushered me upstairs. My confusion turned into pure joy. This was the best day ever! Have you ever had the feeling of your heart being crushed while your stomach constricted and turn from
It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, music was playing and nothing could possibly go wrong. Then they showed up. Suddenly I’m being held up by both of my shoulders. I didn’t know what was happening. The only thing I could do was kick, scream and cry to the point where they’d have to let me go. But, they didn’t, I wished they did. All I could think about was why? Why are these people taking me away? I was hoping my Grandpa would come to my rescue and stop them. Wishing he wouldn’t have allowed those men to take me. I was terrified. No one was there for me, no one stopped them. Everyone watched, but they didn’t do anything to help. Why weren’t they helping me? My own family just letting it happen. I felt betrayed by the only people
Nothing. Absolutely nothing comes to mind. Personal writing. It’s about me. Who else could possibly know more about me; how I feel, how I cope, how I react, how I think; than me? It’s all there somewhere. Somewhere, all of my thoughts and feelings about anything and everything that has ever happened to me are there but, for now, they seem to reside in secrecy somewhere in my mind.