Alastor Haircut Mga Nobela at Kwento

Before I can even budge from my seat, a head pops around the corner. "We'll be heading off in five. Hope you girls are ready for a party." Alastaire leans against the doorway, still wearing the white v-neck top and skinny jeans he wore on stage. He always looks sort of angelic in photos and videos, (inhumanely perfect according to Jamie), and the real life version doesn't disappoint. Tall and lean with clear blue eyes and a halo of messy gold hair, beautiful is the only word that does him justice. In fact, he's prettier than most girls.

I groaned as I woke up from my alarm groggily, and pushed my hair back with one hand. My long wavy silver hair was now chopped off till my shoulders. Not that I looked bad, though. It had been a week now with my new wolf cut hair that my mom did for me. And it turned out, I was actually born for this haircut. The best part is I don't even need to style it with blow dryer and curlers like others as strangely my hair stays in like that even when I wake up.

Aleksander's eyes widened," I don't think you get a chance today. He's still frail. Maybe in a couple of days. Let him have a good rest. Have you eaten?" "Nope. I was waiting for you." "Okay. Let me feed you first, then have a haircut. Is that okay?" "Love it!" While she sat in the chair at the hair salon, Izabella considered how she would like to have her hair fixed. Become an ash blonde instead? "No," protested Aleksander, "I don't want it. Maximum three inches off the back, then long layers." "Yet her bone structure and facial traits..." The hairstylist Jiji Rose kept chatting, but Izabella didn't pay heed.

His tall, commanding figure and my smaller one just a step away. “What do you think, my love… should I get a clean cut again?” he asked. “I’m thinking of cutting my hair. It only reminds me of being an Alpha in the Salvators. This has always been my signature hairstyle.” At the mention of it, my eyes shifted from his face to his long, wavy hair that cascaded freely over his shoulders. It fell naturally, thick and slightly tousled, framing his strong features even from behind. The dark waves rested against his bare skin.

Sitting behind a desk felt more like a boss speaking to his employee than a man speaking with the love of his life. Alvara looked beautiful with her new hair. Platinum streaks weaved through the gold. The style was different as well. Gone was the long hair with ratty ends. She had opted for a long Chinese bob. Savanah had wanted the style but feared it wouldn't suit her face. How wrong she had been.

Amare lifted her head, instinctively drawn to the comforting scent for the first time since Morris had shattered our world. He feels safe, she whispered, but I immediately pushed the thought aside. No man was safe. Not anymore. Without a word, he removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth lingering in the fabric seeped through me almost instantly. "This should help." I looked up to thank him, and the moment our eyes met, recognition hit me. Alpha Nicolai Ashbourne. The son of our late Alpha and the man who now ruled Stormridge. Over the years, stories about Alpha Nicolai had spread across every pack. Some called him ruthless. Others called him the most powerful Alpha in t

(Anastasia's POV) "BITCHHHHHHH," Ally exclaimed, dragging the sound to make it look sassy as she snapped her fingers up in the air. Her purple dress flowed beautifully around her. Her hair was up in a messy updo that fitted her. She had placed a butterfly-shaped clip on top of the bun. "Do you know what I just found out?" She asked, her eyes wide and alarmed. I raised my eyebrows.

His jaw was defined, his nose was sharp and pointed, his lips were thin and a little pinkish, his eyelashes were thick and curly, and his brows were thick and perfect. His hair was disheveled, which was unusual. His hair was always neatly fixed. My lips parted at that. He looks more handsome when his hair is like that. Suddenly, I heard a voice speaking to me in a rather teasing tone. “Done eyeing me?” I was startled that I jumped. Prince Alastair slowly opened his green eyes which were glinting with mischief. A small smirk was plastered on his face. A blush made its own way to my cheeks.

And cut. I don't cry. I don't hesitate. This hair was the hair Aureliano stroked. This was the hair Spadino buried his face in. This was the hair Ciro held when he fucked me. It has to go. When I am done, my hair is a jagged, chin-length bob. It looks rough. Angry. I take out the box of hair dye. Jet Black. I mix it in the sink. The chemical smell burns my nose. I slap the black sludge onto my head, rubbing it into my scalp until it stains my skin.

Alan his tone was far off and his gaze roamed his wristwatch. Having opinions on how I chose to wear my hair was annoying. "What's wrong with my hair?" "Could you brush it perfectly? You'll be before the scrutinizing gazes of more than hundreds and thousands of the pack members." "You feel my hair is a deal because?" I sneered. "I'll style that for you." Luca offered. "That's sweet but I love my auburn hair just the way it is." "Yeah." Alan snorted, "Keep giving these members reasons to want to consider your runt status."