Afton Family Portrait 소설 & 이야기

By the time she finished her engagements and got home, it was after ten o'clock. Ashton quietly went to check on the kids in their room, wanting to see them. The room was empty. However, the lights were on in the art studio, study, and Fiona's workspace. She tiptoed over and peeked through each door. What an extraordinary family this was: a painting prodigy, an IT prodigy, and another whose genius wasn't easily categorized but was undoubtedly formidable. Ashton felt her fatigue made her seem particularly inadequate in comparison.

“Plus La Bonita and the Wishing Well.” She blinked. “Your brother owns all three?” “Yes. My brother is Trent Younger, although I’m actually younger than him.” He rolled his eyes at his pun and Violet laughed. She hadn’t heard anything about Ash’s family, although in Fair Haven, the family that was most talked about was the Thorntons. They were the most prestigious—and wealthy—family living in the town, and Martha had told her all about the huge mansion in the hills where the parents still lived. They also had a bunch of children—five, six, seven? Something like that.

They immediately entered the house where they lived and, sure enough, Aefar's room was full of various face paintings, and the largest painting contained the entire Anindira family and her four husbands, along with their children. Not only the last message they left, several paintings showing the existence of the Anindira family, and some of the assets that had been in the names of Halvir, Aefar, Hans, and Gavriel had been transferred to Harry and Fanny.

miserable. We walked past a living room where I saw antique furniture looking like it had been there for years. But that's not what caught my eye. I stopped by the hallway. Hanging on the wall was a family portrait. Two adults. One a woman with tightly coiled hair in an afro and the man with shiny dark hair up to his shoulders. The woman held a baby who was reaching out towards a teen boy with the same curly hair and green eyes as Cameron. Celeste, looking maybe about fourteen years old stood with a bow in her long curly dark hair beaming at the camera.

She stood in the doorway of the living room and looked at the scene that the photograph had captured, still present, still real, the people in it continuing their various conversations and occupations without any awareness of having been documented. She thought about the first family portrait, the professional one with the photographer called June, taken when Sophia was small and all of them were still learning the shape of this particular configuration. She thought about Lily's drawing that had gone up beside it, all the family connections rendered in colored pencil by a thirteen year old who had understood that family was larger than one household. The wall had grown since then.

He still had the audacity to act as if everything was fine, which was extremely irritating. I don't want to be a cog in his perfect relationship. Mister handsome made sure I was staring at the picture, so he placed both hands on my cheeks and forced me to stare at the portrait, and before I could shift my gaze because I didn't want to play around with Mister handsome, my gaze landed on the picture of the lady with brown hair. There were four people in the family portrait. A young child, two young ladies, and a young man. In the family portrait, the brown-haired lady is standing next to a lady with golden hair that reaches her shoulder.

Hilda and Nathan were standing together with a little Luna between them. On either side of them were their parents, Damian, Connie, and Jerome, and also the other family members, Linux, Lily, Johnathan, and Dean. Standing away from everyone else, Anthony was like an invisible person watching them take a family photo Hilda was breathtakingly beautiful standing in the center. Sadly, her beauty was not for him. It was the afternoon, but he felt cold on the inside as if he should not have shown up.

But despite his best efforts, he still looked like just a little boy, less than ten years old, with Adele's red hair and his father's nearly black eyes. Already the next photo showed that boy already grown, now really looking as emotionless as his father. In fact, Rose now understood that Aaron's frown seemed to run in the family, as most of his ancestors seemed to have been physically incapable of smiling even in the past, be it for a painting or a photo. However, she had to admit that in that particular portrait, there was an extra coldness, much more because of the red-haired man than anyone else, since the dark-haired woman who was next to him seemed very friendly, as well as the others

In the end, it disappeared after sliding down to their chests. Their white shirts were wet with sweat, clinging to their honey-colored bodies... Under the light, they were panting heavily, but neither of them would give in. … After going downstairs, Catelyn found that Old Madam Atherton planned to take some photos with her. Old Madam Atherton hired a professional photographer to take a family portrait. As Edwin wasn't downstairs, Old Madam Atherton wanted to take photos with Catelyn. The photos in Old Madam Atherton’s room were taken more than half a year ago, which should have been changed.

It reminds me a lot of Betsy’s original room, just without the feminine decorations,and it’s on the minimalist side. The only decoration in the room is a large family portrait of a strict looking man who resembles Rafael, a mousy woman with wide, brown eyes sitting in fromt of him, and four children arranged around the mother - three boys and a girl. None of the children could have been older than thirteen when the painting was made. I saw it last night, but there wasn’t much time to stop and think about it. The room is light and airy, with a the large mahogany bed against the wall.