~!! Yaadein !!~ SS & KR ff updated page 20 - Page 8

Slambook is almost same...u have to go to their profile...click on the slambook option and type the questions u wanted to ask...when they see ur slam question they will answer it.

Oh Nice yay we r on pg 15 so now we need our update!!!

Namrata u r demand pura hogaya hai

Yes, candy we want an update as soon as u come online..

update namrata...ur demand has been met...update both the ff...n update soon...

Originally posted by: mEgical_arsha

Res

Unress*

Am doing Huuula laaa by reading ur FF !!!!

Ohhkk firstly am damn sorry my *Devil* for commenting Late...nah very damn Late !!!

I noe i've become a Late Lateef commentor though !!!!

Well keeping aside these sorry tolks i wanna say that u did and will be doing a Commendable wrk candy !!!

I cannot tell how much i Loved ur FF yaar !!!

Very creative and wow what a set of words u've chosen while writing every single chappy till now !!!!

Mindblowing concept and not so typical too !!!

I should tell that u have Amazing sense of humour...and writing skills too !!!

Really am highly impressed by ur Vocab Jaanz !!!!

So,keep it up and next part jaldi update kar...

I'll be waiting for u to update...and thanq fr finally commenting on my wrk !!!

*Pheewww* I guess done all the Taarifs...

Ab isse zyada taarif mat expect krna meri DeViL

Itna update mein itna hi milega...Lollx !!!!

Again sorry agar tujhe laga ho ki this is a small comment...cuz i've finger prob !!!

Ohk now done !!! *Finally*

Now i guess kuch zyada hi long comment ho gya...

Me ati Meherbaan on u... Lollz !!!!

Btw Muaaahhh !!!!!!

omg itna vada comment mashallah..!!
thnkz sweetu i juzz loved ur comment... thnk u choo much..

SWARON

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PART 2

-------------------------------------------------------------------

EARLIER THAT evening and a hundred miles away, she sat alone

on the porch swing of her parents' home, one leg tucked beneath her,

wondering if she'd made the right decision. She'd struggled with it

for days—and had struggled some more this evening—but in the end

she knew she would never forgive herself if she let the opportunity

slip away.

Neal didn't know the real reason she left the following morning. The

week before, she'd hinted to him that she might want to visit some

antique shops near the coast. "It's just a couple of days," she said,

"and besides, I need a break from planning the wedding." She felt bad

about the lie, but knew there was no way she could tell him the truth.

Her leaving had nothing to do with him, and it wouldn't he fair of her

to ask him to understand.

It was an easy drive from Raleigh, slightly more than two hours, and

she arrived a little before eleven. She checked into a small inn

downtown, went to her room and unpacked her suitcase, hanging her

dresses in the closet and putting everything else in the drawers. She

had a quick lunch, asked the waitress for directions to the nearest

antique stores, then spent the next few hours shopping. By four thirty

she was back in her room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone and called Neal.

He couldn't speak long, but before they hung up she gave him the

phone number where she was staying and promised to call the

following day. Good, she thought while hanging up the phone.

Routine conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to make

him suspicious.

She'd known him almost four years now, it was 1942 when they

met, the world at war and America one year in. Everyone was doing

their part and she was volunteering at the hospital downtown. The

first waves of wounded young soldiers were coming home, and she

spent her days with broken men and shattered bodies. When Neal, with

his easy charm, introduced himself at a party, she saw in him exactly

what she needed: someone with confidence about the future and a

sense of humour that drove all her fears away.

He was handsome, intelligent and driven, a successful lawyer eight

years older than she, and he pursued his job with passion, not only

winning cases but also making a name for himself. She understood his

vigorous pursuit of success, for her father and most of the men she

met in her social circle were the same way. Like them, he'd been

raised that way, and, in the caste system of the South, family name

and accomplishments were often the most important consideration in

marriage. In some cases they were the only consideration.

Though she had quietly rebelled against this idea since childhood

and had dated a few men best described as reckless, she found herself

drawn to Neal's easy ways and had gradually come to love him.

Despite the long hours he worked, he was good to her. He was a

gentleman, mature and responsible, and during those terrible periods

of the war when she needed someone to hold her, he never once

turned her away. She felt secure with him and knew he loved her as

well and that was why she had accepted his proposal.

Thinking these things made her feel guilty about being here, and she

knew she should pack her things and leave before she changed her

mind. She picked up her handbag, hesitated and almost made it to the

door. But coincidence had pushed her here, and she put the bag down,

again realizing that if she quit now she would always wonder what

would have happened. She couldn't live with that

She went to the bathroom and started a bath. After checking the

temperature she walked to the chest of drawers in the bedroom, taking

off her gold earrings as she crossed the room. She found her sponge

bag, opened it and pulled out a razor and a bar of soap, then undressed

in front of the chest of drawers. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Her body was firm and well proportioned, breasts softly rounded,

stomach flat, legs slim. She'd inherited her mother's high cheekbones,

smooth skin and blonde hair, but her best feature was her own. She

had "eyes like ocean waves", as Neal liked to say.

Taking the razor and soap, she went to the bathroom again, turned

off the tap, set a towel where she could reach it and stepped gingerly

into the bath.

She liked the way a bath relaxed her, and she slipped lower in the

water. The day had been long and her back was tense, but she was

pleased she had finished shopping so quickly. She had to go back to

Raleigh with something tangible, and the things she had picked out

would work fine. She made a mental note to find the names of some

other stores in the Beaufort area, then suddenly doubted she would

need to. Neal wasn't the type to check up on her.

She reached for the soap, lathered up and began to shave her legs.

As she did, she thought about her parents and what they would think

of her behaviour. No doubt they would disapprove, especially her

mother. Her mother had never really accepted what had happened the

summer they'd spent here and wouldn't accept it now; no matter what

reason she gave.

She soaked a while longer in the bath before finally getting out and

towelling off. She went to the closet and looked for a dress, finally

choosing a long yellow one that dipped slightly in the front, the kind

that was common in the South. She slipped it on and looked in the

mirror, turning from side to side. It fitted her well, but she eventually

decided against it and put it back on the hanger. Instead she found a

more casual, less revealing dress and put that on. Light blue with a

touch of lace, it buttoned up at the front, and though it didn't look

quite as nice as the first one, it conveyed an image she thought would

be more appropriate.

She wore little make-up, just a touch of eye shadow and mascara to

accent her eyes. Perfume next, not too much. She found a pair of

small hooped earrings, put those on, then slipped on the tan, lowheeled

sandals she had been wearing earlier. She brushed her blonde

hair, pinned it up and looked in the mirror. No, it was too much, she

thought, and she let it back down. Better.

When she was finished she stepped back and evaluated herself. She

looked good: not too dressy, not too casual. She didn't want to overdo

it. After all, she didn't know what to expect. It had been a long time—

probably too long—and many different things could have happened,

even things she didn't want to consider.

She looked down and saw her hands were shaking, and she laughed

to herself. It was strange; she wasn't normally this nervous.

She found her handbag and car keys, then picked up the room key.

She turned it over in her hand a couple of times, thinking - You've

come this far, don't give up now. She nearly left then, but instead sat

on the bed again. She checked her watch. Almost six o'clock. She

knew she had to leave in a few minutes—she didn't want to arrive

after dark—but she needed a little more time.

"Damn," she whispered. "What am I doing here? I shouldn't be

here. There's no reason for it." But once she said it she knew it wasn't

true. If nothing else, she would have her answer.

She opened her handbag and thumbed through it until she came to a

folded-up piece of newspaper. After taking it out slowly, almost

reverently, she unfolded it and stared at it for a while. "This is why,"

she finally said to herself, "this is what it's all about."

------------------------------------------

jyaada post karne ko nahi allowed hai chry.. hwz it hit lyk... next update after page 30..

KRIYAANSH

-----------------------------------------------------------------

PART 2

-------------------------------------------------------------------

EARLIER THAT evening and a hundred miles away, she sat alone

on the porch swing of her parents' home, one leg tucked beneath her,

wondering if she'd made the right decision. She'd struggled with it

for days—and had struggled some more this evening—but in the end

she knew she would never forgive herself if she let the opportunity

slip away.

Neal didn't know the real reason she left the following morning. The

week before, she'd hinted to him that she might want to visit some

antique shops near the coast. "It's just a couple of days," she said,

"and besides, I need a break from planning the wedding." She felt bad

about the lie, but knew there was no way she could tell him the truth.

Her leaving had nothing to do with him, and it wouldn't he fair of her

to ask him to understand.

It was an easy drive from Raleigh, slightly more than two hours, and

she arrived a little before eleven. She checked into a small inn

downtown, went to her room and unpacked her suitcase, hanging her

dresses in the closet and putting everything else in the drawers. She

had a quick lunch, asked the waitress for directions to the nearest

antique stores, then spent the next few hours shopping. By four thirty

she was back in her room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone and called Neal.

He couldn't speak long, but before they hung up she gave him the

phone number where she was staying and promised to call the

following day. Good, she thought while hanging up the phone.

Routine conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to make

him suspicious.

She'd known him almost four years now, it was 1942 when they

met, the world at war and America one year in. Everyone was doing

their part and she was volunteering at the hospital downtown. The

first waves of wounded young soldiers were coming home, and she

spent her days with broken men and shattered bodies. When Neal, with

his easy charm, introduced himself at a party, she saw in him exactly

what she needed: someone with confidence about the future and a

sense of humour that drove all her fears away.

He was handsome, intelligent and driven, a successful lawyer eight

years older than she, and he pursued his job with passion, not only

winning cases but also making a name for himself. She understood his

vigorous pursuit of success, for her father and most of the men she

met in her social circle were the same way. Like them, he'd been

raised that way, and, in the caste system of the South, family name

and accomplishments were often the most important consideration in

marriage. In some cases they were the only consideration.

Though she had quietly rebelled against this idea since childhood

and had dated a few men best described as reckless, she found herself

drawn to Neal's easy ways and had gradually come to love him.

Despite the long hours he worked, he was good to her. He was a

gentleman, mature and responsible, and during those terrible periods

of the war when she needed someone to hold her, he never once

turned her away. She felt secure with him and knew he loved her as

well and that was why she had accepted his proposal.

Thinking these things made her feel guilty about being here, and she

knew she should pack her things and leave before she changed her

mind. She picked up her handbag, hesitated and almost made it to the

door. But coincidence had pushed her here, and she put the bag down,

again realizing that if she quit now she would always wonder what

would have happened. She couldn't live with that

She went to the bathroom and started a bath. After checking the

temperature she walked to the chest of drawers in the bedroom, taking

off her gold earrings as she crossed the room. She found her sponge

bag, opened it and pulled out a razor and a bar of soap, then undressed

in front of the chest of drawers. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Her body was firm and well proportioned, breasts softly rounded,

stomach flat, legs slim. She'd inherited her mother's high cheekbones,

smooth skin and blonde hair, but her best feature was her own. She

had "eyes like ocean waves", as Neal liked to say.

Taking the razor and soap, she went to the bathroom again, turned

off the tap, set a towel where she could reach it and stepped gingerly

into the bath.

She liked the way a bath relaxed her, and she slipped lower in the

water. The day had been long and her back was tense, but she was

pleased she had finished shopping so quickly. She had to go back to

Raleigh with something tangible, and the things she had picked out

would work fine. She made a mental note to find the names of some

other stores in the Beaufort area, then suddenly doubted she would

need to. Neal wasn't the type to check up on her.

She reached for the soap, lathered up and began to shave her legs.

As she did, she thought about her parents and what they would think

of her behaviour. No doubt they would disapprove, especially her

mother. Her mother had never really accepted what had happened the

summer they'd spent here and wouldn't accept it now; no matter what

reason she gave.

She soaked a while longer in the bath before finally getting out and

towelling off. She went to the closet and looked for a dress, finally

choosing a long yellow one that dipped slightly in the front, the kind

that was common in the South. She slipped it on and looked in the

mirror, turning from side to side. It fitted her well, but she eventually

decided against it and put it back on the hanger. Instead she found a

more casual, less revealing dress and put that on. Light blue with a

touch of lace, it buttoned up at the front, and though it didn't look

quite as nice as the first one, it conveyed an image she thought would

be more appropriate.

She wore little make-up, just a touch of eye shadow and mascara to

accent her eyes. Perfume next, not too much. She found a pair of

small hooped earrings, put those on, then slipped on the tan, lowheeled

sandals she had been wearing earlier. She brushed her blonde

hair, pinned it up and looked in the mirror. No, it was too much, she

thought, and she let it back down. Better.

When she was finished she stepped back and evaluated herself. She

looked good: not too dressy, not too casual. She didn't want to overdo

it. After all, she didn't know what to expect. It had been a long time—

probably too long—and many different things could have happened,

even things she didn't want to consider.

She looked down and saw her hands were shaking, and she laughed

to herself. It was strange; she wasn't normally this nervous.

She found her handbag and car keys, then picked up the room key.

She turned it over in her hand a couple of times, thinking - You've

come this far, don't give up now. She nearly left then, but instead sat

on the bed again. She checked her watch. Almost six o'clock. She

knew she had to leave in a few minutes—she didn't want to arrive

after dark—but she needed a little more time.

"Damn," she whispered. "What am I doing here? I shouldn't be

here. There's no reason for it." But once she said it she knew it wasn't

true. If nothing else, she would have her answer.

She opened her handbag and thumbed through it until she came to a

folded-up piece of newspaper. After taking it out slowly, almost

reverently, she unfolded it and stared at it for a while. "This is why,"

she finally said to herself, "this is what it's all about."

------------------------------------------

jyaada post karne ko nahi allowed hai chry.. hwz it hit lyk... next update after page 30..