Étude
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- Partes 8
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The Madness is Mine
I never craved attention, until I tasted yours!-Mrs. Rajvansh🧿❤️ --- "Umm... hello? Testing-mic check? Yeah, we're live." *The author cleared her throat, awkwardly staring at the blinking cursor.* "Welcome to... well, chaos. If you're looking for logic, peace, or a main character who thinks before she speaks-this ain't it." "Excuse you?" Trishna huffed from the side, arms crossed over her pajama top. "I have thoughts. Deep ones. Like-what if clouds are just sky's dandruff?" "See?" *Author pointed. Dramatically.* "THIS is what I'm working with." "You're the one who made me like this!" Trishna fired back. "And why do I have to be 23 and a mess while he's out there being thirty-one, broody, and hot?" "Hot?" A low voice cut through the noise. "You're not supposed to be here yet!" *Author yelped, hiding the notes in, hidden notes the folder* "Go back to chapter one! You're ruining the reveal!" "I don't wait for chapters," Rudransh said, adjusting his wristwatch-like he was preparing for war. "And stop calling me broody. I'm composed." "You threw a chair at a wall last week!" Trishna exclaimed. "It didn't hit anyone." "...that doesn't help your case." *Author facepalmed.* "Okay, readers. Let's be real. This story? It's not sunshine-falls-for-grump. It's more like chaos-collides-with-control. She's messy. He's angry. There's a kitchen scene that still haunts my notes app. And yes, jealousy. Don't ask." Trishna snorted. "He wants to strangle me half the time, but God forbid I talk to any guy and suddenly he's Gordon Ramsay with an ego problem." "I don't get jealous," Rudransh muttered, deadpan. "Sure, sure, tell that to the broken coffee mug." *Author chimed in, sipping chai while eating Marie gold* "Anyway. Buckle up. There's madness, there's minefields, and there's no logic here. Just vibes and violence." "Is there romance?" The author's bff asks. Trishna and Rudransh glance at each other. "...we don't know." Maybe.
Just this once | JenLisa |
Rosé sighs. "I don't know how to explain it, but why would your father suddenly appear after all this time and demand you marry a stranger? And not just any stranger, but a mafia boss?" Rosé's right. None of this makes sense. My father, who barely ever showed up in my life unless he needed something, suddenly dragging me into this mess with Lisa? And a mafia boss, of all people? - Lisa immediately pulls me under the blanket again. "Just until the fever breaks," I mutter. "Sure, Jen. Whatever you say," she whispers, her voice barely audible as she drifts off again. And despite myself, I stay. When I stir awake sometime later, the room is dim, and Lisa's arm is still draped over me, holding me in place. I blink groggily, realizing I hadn't meant to fall asleep here. Lisa shifts slightly beside me but doesn't wake. Her breathing is soft, and her fever seems to have broken, but she still clings to me like I'm some kind of lifeline. I sigh quietly, rubbing my eyes. "Just this once," I remind myself again. I stir awake, feeling something wet and warm against my stomach. Still half-asleep, I absentmindedly stroke the soft head. "Good puppy," I mumble. Wait. Puppy? My eyes snap open, and there she is-Lisa, grinning mischievously, her chin resting on me. "Of course," I mutter, glaring at her. Lisa winks. "Morning." I groan. "Do you ever act normal?" "Where's the fun in that?" she teases, propping herself up on her elbows. - As I murmur against her lips, "This doesn't change anything," Lisa pauses for a moment, her breath warm against my skin. She hums in response, the sound vibrating through our connected bodies. The heat radiating from her body feels intoxicating, and I relish it, but I remind myself that love isn't on the table right now. "Just... this once," I say, punctuating my words with a gentle press of my lips against hers once more. "Yeah, just this once," she replies, a hint of mischief creeping back into her voice.Concluida
I never craved attention, until I tasted yours!-Mrs. Rajvansh🧿❤️ --- "Umm... hello? Testing-mic check? Yeah, we're live." *The author cleared her throat, awkwardly staring at the blinking cursor.* "Welcome to... well, chaos. If you're looking for logic, peace, or a main character who thinks before she speaks-this ain't it." "Excuse you?" Trishna huffed from the side, arms crossed over her pajama top. "I have thoughts. Deep ones. Like-what if clouds are just sky's dandruff?" "See?" *Author pointed. Dramatically.* "THIS is what I'm working with." "You're the one who made me like this!" Trishna fired back. "And why do I have to be 23 and a mess while he's out there being thirty-one, broody, and hot?" "Hot?" A low voice cut through the noise. "You're not supposed to be here yet!" *Author yelped, hiding the notes in, hidden notes the folder* "Go back to chapter one! You're ruining the reveal!" "I don't wait for chapters," Rudransh said, adjusting his wristwatch-like he was preparing for war. "And stop calling me broody. I'm composed." "You threw a chair at a wall last week!" Trishna exclaimed. "It didn't hit anyone." "...that doesn't help your case." *Author facepalmed.* "Okay, readers. Let's be real. This story? It's not sunshine-falls-for-grump. It's more like chaos-collides-with-control. She's messy. He's angry. There's a kitchen scene that still haunts my notes app. And yes, jealousy. Don't ask." Trishna snorted. "He wants to strangle me half the time, but God forbid I talk to any guy and suddenly he's Gordon Ramsay with an ego problem." "I don't get jealous," Rudransh muttered, deadpan. "Sure, sure, tell that to the broken coffee mug." *Author chimed in, sipping chai while eating Marie gold* "Anyway. Buckle up. There's madness, there's minefields, and there's no logic here. Just vibes and violence." "Is there romance?" The author's bff asks. Trishna and Rudransh glance at each other. "...we don't know." Maybe.
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