JULIE"Inthebathroom!" I say hurriedly, hissing after that. My eyes squeeze shut and I curse under my breath. He presses his lips together and I wonder for a moment if he understood what I said. He gets up and moves to my bathroom. So he got what I said. While he is inside, I look at my feet, finding my lacy bra there, and the strap is tangled in my toes. So this is how I tripped over the floor. I reach for my bra and at the same time, the door opens, revealing Mr. Taylor. I swiftly pull my undergarment behind my back, giving my full attention to him. He seems to notice it but does not interrupt me for which I am grateful. He comes to me and crouches down, putting the kit on the floor. He opens the kit and brings out a bandage from it. He separates it, staring at the bandage with amusement in his eyes, probably because of its pink color and white teddy patterns on it. I like them quite a lot, that is why I still have a collection of stuffed animals in my cupboard. Holding the band

I woke up with a headache.My head throbs and my eyes are still heavy though I have cried enough. Okay, I believe I am a real crybaby but I cannot even blame my father for pampering me like a princess. I am his princess and he treats me like a flower, too. I hold my head and my eyes fall on the books spread across my bed. Some of them are lying on the floor, too. I must have kicked them down and I am guilty of that. Sighing, I bend down to hold my books and put them in their place. I leave my room after washing my face and go downstairs. I find my dad in the kitchen, preparing the dining table. He grins when he spots me coming to him. "Hey, princess! I was just coming to call you," he says and I reach him. He presses a kiss on my forehead and then pulls back, stretching out a chair for me. I sit there and decide to ask what I am dying to ask him. "Dad, did Mr. Taylor leave?" I do not look up at him because I get busy admiring the dishes he cooked. Especially lasagna. "Yes. One

JULIEAs he promised me that he will try to control his anger and also try to teach me in a different way so that I can understand easily and I do not zone out. He teaches me in exactly the same way. He explains to me with examples, in order to make me understand because of this I become so eager that I forget or ignore the noises around me. I listen to him very carefully, understand the question and remember the formula together and try to solve the question as I do alone and show him the fit.He holds my notebook and scans it while I wait for his answer, quite impatient to hear him. I have tried a lot to establish this focus. If I still make a mistake or disappoint him, I will be very upset. I do not want to upset him. "Yeah, that's perfect. You solved it well," he says with a smile, putting the notebook down. My lips stretch out in a grin and I nod quickly. "Thanks!" I utter, wanting him to know that his efforts worked out for me. "No need to thank me. You have worked hard on

It is said that the perfect man of the world does not exist. But I think that's a lie. They may never have seen or met a perfect man, but I have seen him and met him. He is currently standing in front of me and is cooking. He does everything very expertly like a chef and I can't get tired of watching him. At first, I was very worried and embarrassed that I was asking the guest to cook food in the kitchen of my house but now I do not find this decision wrong now, at all. I feel as if I have blessed myself by allowing him to cook. He not only walks and talks with grace, but also lifts the spoon with grace. He cuts vegetables beautifully. He washes the chicken very hotly and I probably cannot get tired of praising him. "Can you pass me some butter?" He asks, snapping me out of my thoughts and admiring-him session. As I was beholding myself with my elbow perched on the surface of the marble counter and my face resting in my palm, I could not help but lose my balance when he spoke in

NICHOLASJulie was looking a little nervous before going to sleep. I could understand her nervousness but I had already asked her. She said that she has no problem. She had faith in me and I did not want to break her trust by doing something wrong.My wolf respected that, too. But she was not nervous that she had to sleep with me. I did not even understand the reason at that moment but now I understand. When we lay comfortably, she kept a distance between us. A safe distance. But now. She was clinging to me. She was cuddling with me and her grip was tight. I peer down at her. Half of her face is curtained by her dark hair as some strands caress them. Her window is slightly opened like always and the moonlight entering from them is falling on her face, making it glow under it. She has a fair texture that makes her look like a small white kitten. She is facing me. Her cheek is pressed against my chest. Her legs cage me. Her leg is above me and her arms are wrapped around my torso.