Truth Or Beard Novels & Stories

Then a young handsome guy of not more than 24 years and an exact look alike of Adon, walked in with a lady beside him. “Niklause”? Adon called the guy in shock and somewhat excitement. “What on earth are you doing in Vegas”?. “In other words I should leave right”? “No kiddo, come here”. The guy whose name was Niklause walked over to Adon and they both hugged each other tightly. “Is this your girlfriend”? “Yes she’s his girlfriend”. Mrs. Grace replied happily. Shirley scoffed lowly. As if he heard something, Adon turned in her direction.” What was that”?

He was seated at the center there and there fixing his hair as he leans back on his chair. "Miss Kenba is this really your real name?" What? Am l caught red-handed or they are just testing me. There is no way that they know who l am. "That Nagara bastard could not keep the dog on the leash." I hear Shiba talking. Shoot. They know him. It was fast as the Anata guy moved as fast as lighting pinning me to the wall. "You thought we were stupid hah...." he spat as he got uncomfortably close to me. Opening his eyes so wide that a fly would fit in.

It was rinse and repeat. It took him a few days to realise why he was doing all of this. He felt utterly alone and he was going through great effort to ensure he was alone. In all honesty, he was a sight for sore eyes, his overgrown hair was sticking out at odd angles from running his fingers through it repeatedly. A recent picture of him had leaked to the media and the female population and population of gay men were torn between his former clean look and his current look where he was spotting an overgrown beard. The younger population voted for his clean look, the older ones were of the opinion that the overgrown beard gave him a more manly look and it was more enticing. He knew because th

I was doing it to break the awkwardness I felt. "Some people are good at giving advice but fail to apply it to themselves. That doesn't mean they are weak. They are actually the strongest. They are the ones who are more compassionate and kind." Not breaking the awkwardness, I ended our conversation appropriately and thanked him for the last time. He also thanked me for the beer and asked for my name. "I'm Leona, and you are?" "Andrei. Hope I can see you again, Leona," we shook hands. His smile is so inviting that I can't help but smile back.

Jaybie replied. Maxwell's heart skipped a beat when Jaybie noticed! "Can running make your beard curl up?" Jaybie turned to look at Sonnet and asked. Sonnet spread her hands and responded, "I don’t know about this. You have to ask Uncle Johnson." Jaybie turned around to look at Maxwell, his knowledge-seeking gaze making Maxwell feel guilty. Maxwell stroked his fake beard with his hand, coughed, and said, "Uh, it’s probably because some soup got on the beard from dinner and it curled up after I fiddled with it. I'll take a shower and wash it off later. It'll be fine."

His speech and articulation had been very advanced for a four-year-old, but after pouting and frowning, he finally looked his age. “But running away won’t solve the problem. She’ll still tattle to your mom,” Ed said. He didn’t know who Rosemore was, but he followed the conversation. AJ smacked his forehead. “You’re right!” Reluctantly, he grabbed his bag. “What’s your name, mister?” AJ asked. Curious before they parted. “Just call me Beast.” Ed pointed to the scar on his face. AJ laughed. “You’re not as bad as the beast,” he said.

“You think that was about control.” “I think it was about perception,” I replied. “And you didn’t think past the moment.” His jaw tightened. “Explain.” I crossed my arms too, mirroring him without meaning to. “Yes,” I said, voice steady even though my pulse wasn’t. “Not because anyone was standing there with popcorn. Because rumors spread.” His eyes narrowed. “You think it’ll become a story.” “It already has,” I said. “By tomorrow it won’t be ‘a woman tried it.’ It’ll be ‘Damien Lockewood had to step in because Tanya couldn’t handle it.’”

An old man with a grey beard was sitting behind the counter, reading a newspaper. "Help you with something, miss?" he asked, not looking up. "Just some supplies," I said, my voice sounding louder than I intended. "I'm out for a hike and I underestimated the trail." "Dangerous woods for a girl alone," the man muttered, finally looking at me. His eyes lingered on the mud on my dress and the scratches on my face. "You look like you tangled with a bear." "Just a very stubborn bush," I lied, forcing a small smile.

A random guy's account had already liked the post and commented, "Honestly, Olivia is the one I feel terrible for here. I can handle his attitude, but he couldn't even tolerate a helpless puppy. It's a dog. It's not like it was eating his food." The person who had posted it replied, "None of us even dares to hang out with her anymore." He wrote back, "The real issue is that he's a massive hypocrite anyway. He's always sleeping around, but Olivia isn't allowed to have a little fun."