Alice Angel Drawing Novels & Stories

I couldn't help but recall the night when I suffered an unbearable stomachache. When I opened the door and saw her, I knew right then—she was the angel in my heart. Even though it was strenuous to carry me on her back, she still forcefully took me to the clinic. From that moment, I eagerly awaited our next meeting. Later, when I saw her in a video Rachel posted online, I realized she was Rachel's roommate. This gave me the perfect excuse. I told Rachel I wanted to visit and conveniently mentioned I had no money.

Aurora shyly met them and then the small Angela who met them excitedly. They all settled down in the lounge as they talked. Angela, who was sitting on the floor and was busy drawing, saw a large boot near her. Her head snapped up to see Luca, he crouched down and gazed at her paper. "What are you drawing?" He asked while observing her drawing. "Angel." She mumbled with a wide smile. Luca chuckled at her attempt. The drawing was looking anything but an angel. He recalled how Rasmus had called his drawing of Angel a mosquito once.

asked Alice while entering the room but stopped abruptly when her eyes fell on the three ethereal beauties. “Wow! Wow! Wow! You girls are looking out of this world! Did I die after slipping in bathroom? Am I in heaven? Are you angels?” asked Alice, clapping her hand happily. Alice was wearing a black colored net dress having small floral design. Her dress had a V shaped neckline but not too deep. It was same fitting as Lily. It was tight on the top giving sinching effect to the waist and flowy on the bottom. “Thank you, little rabbit” said Elena smiling sweetly.

The thought made something warm bloom in her chest that she immediately tried to suppress. "Alex?" Clara asked, reading over her shoulder. "Yeah." "That's... nice?" "It is nice." Angela set her phone down. "It's also complicated." "Everything about him is complicated." Clara grabbed another spring roll. "But at least he's being supportive. That's something." "Yeah. It's something." That night, after Clara left and her dad went to bed, Angela sat at the kitchen table with her mother's old sketchbook. She'd been drawing more lately—quick sketches of hands sewing, of faces in profile, of small domestic moments that felt worth capturing.

She was somewhere around seven or eight, completely absorbed in whatever she was drawing, her tongue pressed to the corner of her mouth in concentration. I lowered myself carefully into a chair near her, mindful of my ribs, and looked at the paper. The drawing was full. Not in a crowded way, in a deliberate way, like she had a clear picture in her head and was working her way across the page with intention. There was a dragon in the top left, red and blocky with impressive teeth. Below it, a woman in a red cape with a pointed hat on a flying broom, carefully coloured with a orange crayon. To the right of that, something with fangs and a dark cape that I was fairly certain was meant to be a v

He just found the courage to do so after wanting to divert his mind from Aubrey. Alpha Angelo dusted the drawer before opening. He took out the old, Ancient rule book from the drawer. He was surprised that even though the book was old, it was well-preserved and kept. All the pages were intact. Even its cover was clean, on the cover had the drawings, that Alpha Angelo couldn't understand.

I demand, unable to understand her hysteria. Silas is right next to her, his eyes red. It’s clear to anyone that he has been crying. As more and more pack mates surround us, Ariel shoves the papers in my hands, “Look at this.” At first, I don't really know what I'm looking at, and then I see. They are crude drawings of what is clearly supposed to be Silas and Ariel. The drawings are childish in appearance but the vicious nature of them cannot be overlooked. One of them is of Ariel with her head cut off and Silas crying on the side.

it answered us. "Ahm, Angel Grace... would you recognize the deity if you saw them?" Alice asked here. Angel Grace thought. "That depends. If they will conceal themselves, we cannot see them through." Angel Grace answered. Crap! Is there such a thing? So it's really difficult. Maybe it's the same as before that is already in front of us but we don't know yet.

|| Lilac’s POV || Alaric walked around the desk and stopped before an old chest. The ancient chest creaked as he opened it, releasing the scent of dried herbs and old blood. Sunlight streamed through the study windows, illuminating a haunting illustration: a beautiful witch with emerald eyes and silver hair, her hands raised over a kneeling Alpha whose veins blackened where her magic touched him.

he commented. “What made you think we’re Angels?” Azrael asked and shoved the seriousness with a sarcastic laugh. Carter pointed Ouriel, “I saw him with angel wings once.” Ouriel staggered in his chair. Carter looks at Azrael, “And the first time I saw you was during the accident.” he paused, Azrael thought that he’s very sharp, “Then both of you haven’t change since then.” he added while scanning their faces. Carter slips the paper near Azrael. It has a sketch of her face that looks exactly like her, the next page was Ouriel. Both of the sketches look like their real portraits.