Katya Dee
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Everything posted by Katya Dee
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She didn't know he was a dream manipulator. Or a telepath.
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Instead of being a "cliff-hanging" author, it could be a "nature-weather-philosophy-describing" author.
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- XXXIII - “Des, come on...” Gabriel said louder than he did before, both of his hands pressing hard against Desmond’s temples, his gaze blink-free and intense. “I don’t care what she managed to come up with...! You are in dreamland, Desmond, which means you can do whatever the hell you want with it! You might not be able to get out... Yet,” he added quickly. “But you can manipulate the surroundings...! You are in a dream that is not even real, which means anything goes...! There will
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She does, but she doesn't really see him as a serious opponent. She underestimates him -- a mistake that Julian made at one point.
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Everyone is entitled to their "DUH!" moments.
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- XXXII - Henry pressed hard against the old maple tree, making sure he stayed out of sight, watching the front door of the house like a hawk. Half an hour or so later, he saw a cab pulling to the curb, and he watched some man get out of it. The man looked like a nightclub bouncer, and Henry immediately knew that he was one of Salamander’s goons. His mouth twitched in a small, satisfied smile. “Do I know how to make excellent plans or do I know how to make excellent plans?” he murm
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Exactly. If some random package had arrived to Desmond's address, they would immediately suspect it was foul play. Who would though? Julian's staff? Yeah, right <snorts> Someone would let him know immediately, and Magda knew that. A package with Julian's name got lost in the mail... Uh, yeah...
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- XXXI - Julian sighed and pulled off his headset, thinking of making more coffee. Just as he got up, his phone let out a quick, buzzing ring. “Yes,” the blond said after he flipped the phone open. “What is it, Anthony?” he opened the door of one of the cabinets and reached for the coffee bag. “A package?” he frowned. “What kind of a package...? I see,” he said slowly and closed the door, walking towards the coffeemaker. “No, don’t open it... It might be important,” he muttered mos
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That's understandable -- one crowe neuer pulleth out an others eyes and all 😜
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That's what those unfortunate people involved with a sociopath were thinking. Right until their "friend" pushed them under a bus 😐
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She definitely doesn't have any friends -- she's a sociopath. Oh, she is familiar with the address 😈
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so... sweet...
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Since I couldn't figure out how to edit & MultiQuote my 2-seconds-earlier answer (yes, I am that challenged sometimes ) here: And who said the package was shipped to Desmond's address? 😶
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And who said the package was shipped to Desmond's address? 😶
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- XXX - He woke up, realizing that his hips were rocking steadily. He almost frowned at that, but then he let out a rather loud moan instead, when he felt a quick, very insistent tongue having its way with him between his legs. He jerked his legs farther apart, giving that wonderful tongue better access, and Gabriel threw him a quick glance without lifting his head. He let out a small smile when he met the half-lidded stare of green eyes, and his tongue became even more insistent, maki
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- XXIX - When Desmond finally made it home (it took him almost half an hour, since he agreed with Raven and stayed off the freeway), he slightly frowned when he saw an unknown to him dark-blue car parked next to the house. He pushed the garage-opening button and slowly wheeled the bike inside once the door slid open. Raven got off the bike, glad that his hands finally stopped shaking. They walked into the house after shutting the garage door, and Desmond blinked when he saw Julian
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- XXVIII - When Desmond pulled into the parking spot of the shopping center, he slowly got off the bike and looked around, his eyes narrowed. “What is it?” Raven asked, while trying to get his hair to behave – it got discombobulated (to say the least) while they were on the freeway. “I don’t know...” Desmond said slowly while quickly scanning the area with his eyes. “There was something...” He bit his lip, and his eyes darted around yet again. “It’s not here now though...” He l
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- XXVII - Henry got to the airport and slowly made his way towards the front desk. “I have a ticket reserved for me,” he said to the man behind the desk and carefully set his easel on the floor. “Henry Allister,” he added, and the man nodded and his fingers started flying above the keyboard of his computer. “Here you go,” he said a minute later and handed Henry the ticket. “Thanks,” the artist muttered and looked at the departure time. It said 3:15. Henry glanced at the clo
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- XXVI - Julian never let go of Raven’s shoulders while they walked to the car, as if afraid that the brunet would disappear into thin air the minute he let go of him. They both slid into the back seat of the car, and Julian pulled Raven closer again, inhaling familiar scent while the brunet dropped his head onto his shoulder. “Give me a cigarette,” Raven muttered a minute later when the car started moving. “I went smoke-free for ten bloody days; I crave one right now like no other
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Well, there is 1 more but it's not finished. So this one is the last one for now 😐
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The puppet master didn't interest her much -- she just happened to be with Henry. As for Henry... There might be an explanation later 😛
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- XXV - Henry knew that he was about to lose this battle; he knew it, but he tried nevertheless. The portal was fainting much faster than it did before, and much faster than Henry was able to place frantic, trembling strokes onto the canvas. He could hear Julian grit his teeth silently right next to his shoulder, and he didn’t care. “Shit, shit, shit...” he kept muttering feverishly while his brush was flying above the painting. “Oh, bloody hell...!” he screamed out with frustrated
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- XXIV - By Monday night, Henry abandoned all hope that he still had splashing on the bottom of his soul. He painted probably twenty (if not more) exits by now, and each one of those would inevitably disappear. Some would disappear in an hour, while the others would last up to three hours; however, it didn’t matter how long the portal would be present in the goddamn painting – eventually it would erase itself as if it was never there. Right now, it was 11:15 on Monday night, and He
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