Aesthetic Harry Potter Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Well, mate is the first option. However, since Muggles like you don’t understand the term, perhaps I can be your lover. Or how do you Yanks say it? Your man. I can be your man.” A choked laugh escapes my mouth at his use of the word muggles. “Wait a minute?” I say, stepping closer as I run a towel down my wet hair. “Are you quoting Harry Potter?” He shrugs his shoulders with a roguish grin. “Nevaeh made me watch all seven movies. They were quite brilliant.” I arch my brows with astonishment. The idea that Azazel has sat down for hours to watch the story of a young boy’s adventures in a wizarding school is almost ludicrous. Seeing my incredulous look, Azazel places his hands on my waist and

I fisted the glass in my hand, the anger boiling inside me like a pot about to overflow. “What was so special about that, Hailey? Look here, dude, so many hot girls are gawking at you.” The dude dares to wrap his arm around my shoulder, turning at the girl with a dress as short as a handkerchief and boobs as big as watermelons, and they look so fake and plastic compared to Hailey’s natural beauty. I pushed his arm off me, my mind consumed with thoughts of Hailey’s genuine smile and the way her tears glistened in the moonlight. Her smile was like a beacon of light in the darkness, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. And her body is like a Venus statue, sculpted with grace and elegance that

“Because… it’s beautiful. Seeing someone strong give up control. Letting themselves be taken. Fucked until they can’t think. Until they’re just… feeling.” His gaze shifted to Philip. “And you?” Philip’s voice was hoarse. “Same. I like watching it happen to someone else. Makes me imagine… what it would feel like.” Henry set the phone down carefully. “Sit.” We did—two stiff wooden chairs facing his desk. He stayed standing. Towering. “I’ve seen students like you before,” he said. “Obsessed with the aesthetics of surrender. You collect it. You consume it. But you never ask yourselves what it would cost to live it.”

I asked. He squinted at my wheel, head tilted. “Why your work so ugly?” Aurora made a choking sound as she tried and failed to cover her laugh. I placed a hand over my heart. “First of all,” I said gravely, “my work is not ugly. You just don’t have the artistic eyes to see how good it is.” Alex frowned, confusion written on his face.“What’s atistic eyes?” “It’s seeing beyond what’s there,” I told him smoothly. “Understanding the soul of the art.”

He moved slowly, deliberately, the way someone moved when they wanted to make an entrance. "What brought you here, Aetos?" I said, smiling despite the irritation prickling under my skin. "After you have been doing your little shits behind my back, I did not expect you to show your face in my castle." The wizard reached up and pulled back his hood. His face was ugly, scarred and twisted and pale, with dark eyes that held no warmth and a mouth that was pressed into a thin, hard line. He had been handsome once, before the magic had eaten away at his flesh, before the rituals had left their marks on his skin. Now he looked like what he was. A monster. A traitor. A man who had sold his soul for p

"Who is the little friend who came with Miss Alicia today?" The men from Theodore's camp turned to a lovely figure trailing behind Alicia. A young woman in simpler formal suits. If their eyesight was fine, then they would say that the girl was much more attractive to look at than Alicia. There’s an aesthetic beauty behind the simplicity of the girl's appearance. Aaron was captivated even with just one glance. On the other hand Harry seemed to be lost in thought when he saw that girl. Harry thought he had seen the girl several times. It appeared together with Alicia several times.

Damn, I could feel goosebumps all over my body now. Cassandra’s face brightened as she amusedly watched me, and she began to laugh. What is so funny? She’s the one who’s funny. I do know that witches look so damn ugly. They only use magic to have a pretty face to fool people around, but the truth is they look awful. They have big noses, sharp chins, frizzy hair, stinky, and I don’t know what else. "Hahaha... You mean, like... hahaha... Harry Potter's?" She asked while laughing so hard at me. Like, come on, what's so funny with what I said?

"Bring him home sometime. You speak so highly of him. I would like to meet him." * * * "Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike." — Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix * H U N T E R J O N E S | The Lovestruck Bad Boy It had been a really good day. I had gotten to spend time with Mey, helping her with homework and telling her my life story. I let out a dreamy sigh, which made me look like Ron after he accidentally drank the love potion. Except that I didn't need a love potion to be crazy about Mey.

Sienna rubbed her nose, lifted her head, and saw a handsome and demon-like face. Harry was really like a demon, and he was also a demon that people could never get tired of seeing! His beautiful pair of dark and deep eyes were seductive. He had thin red lips, and the corners of his mouth were curled into a reserved, detached, dangerous, yet charming smile. It was just that… Based on his posture, he seemed to be waiting for her here on purpose. Sienna put her cell phone in her pocket and greeted him, “It’s been a long time, Master Harry. Have you been well?”

“Harry.” “Tell me that you’re glad to see me,” Harry’s appearance was, as always, dramatically beautiful. Tall, lean, broad shouldered, and dressed with an effortless elegance that Meguitte could never reproduce, their hair was a waist length, silky straight dyed golden curtain. From behind she might have mistaken Harry for Talen, though Talen had not worn his hair that length since his time in Alden whilst he had been grieving Gera, and Talen tended more to denim and flannelette than designer wear.