Aesthetic Reading Pictures Novels & Stories

The images were beautiful in a way that made my stomach clench sensually, raw and private. Why this? Why not— “What are you doing in here?”

What pictures is she talking about? "Pictures?" I exclaim nervously. "Yeah", Thea says, scrolling down. "This one. You looked too gorgeous in it" "Show me", Christian takes her phone right away and I peek at it. There are definitely no single pictures but some group ones. It's a bit dark but my face can be clearly seen. "That's so freaking gorgeous", Christian chirps, zooming in on me. "But why are you looking so off?" He looks at me, frowning. It's so tough to escape his eyes. He can literally read my face in that freaking photograph.

One by one she plucked out to read from the back and surely, the front cover plays a huge role in her buying. She would blush at the provocative and alluring drawings of man and woman wrapping round each other. Other then getting addicted to books with sultry scene or stories, she was attracted by the depth of the stories itself that calls out to her. The passion between the two characers and their ability to withstand any obstacles around them as well as promising and loving each other with only the language of love that only they can understand. Ariadne adores such books. It didn't take long for her to roll back to her old habit of reading the book at the corner fo the wall, hidden from ju

Staring for a long time, these earthworms seemed to be twisting and turning, making people feel restless. Frost timely moved his gaze away and didn’t expect that looking at this calligraphy could cause such a strong discomfort. He looked at Ethan with half confusion and half disgust, while Ethan was eagerly observing Grandpa's reaction and expecting Grandpa to greatly appreciate his unconventional style of writing. But in Frost's mind, there was only one sentence: Have you lost the basic sense of aesthetics? But Frost didn't say anything because he knew it was not the right time for him to comment, and he was worried that Ethan's calligraphy might stimulate Grandpa. Grandpa can't bare any st

As Ace flipped through the pages, the soft crackling of the paper filled the space. Ace's fingers moved skillfully over the pages, his eyes scanning each drawing with a mix of pain and yearning. As he turned the pages, I leaned in closer, mesmerized by his talent, my gaze fixed on his strong fingers gently handling each page. Each one unveiled a new design, a new narrative. On one page, I saw a boy gazing at a river, his face reflecting deep sorrow.