Another Word For Pretty Novels & Stories

"Nope, cute is definitely the word I was looking for." "Then what does that make you? Only one of us can have the title of cute," he says with a grin. "I'm thinking adorable," I reply and he chuckles. "No that's not what I was thinking," he says and I look at him confused. "I was thinking beautiful." "You have a way with words," I groan as my cheeks flush. "God, I hate blushing!"

Instead "is he a pretty as you?" If i had a drink i would have spluttered the whole thing out here, right on this damp soil. My face is suddenly hot. She knows, and is having trouble hiding it, by the lopsided smile that has curled it way around her lip like steam gasped out of a whistling kettle. Her teeth flashes through, and somehow crooked teeth is my new definition of vogue. "Handsome, you were trying to say handsome, right?" She gets even smug-er. " No, you are not handsome, you are pretty, like girl type of fine."

“I don’t know flowery Latin words like you, but with the amount of vocabulary I have, and the soul of language that I can comprehend… I want to say that I have never seen a man more beautiful than you…” “Handsome would be a better word choice, don’t you think?” I said. “No. Handsome means good looking and has more visual appeal, while beautiful means pretty and attractive, giving pleasure to the senses. And you, Zephyr, you pleasure all my senses... unfathomably, beautifully.” “A great philosopher once said, ‘words have no gender, just meaning that you attach to it.’ You proved it,” I said, entwining my tongue with her as she kissed me more intensely.

She wanted to curse too. Is that even human speech?! And—what do they mean she’s “not that pretty”?!

"Has she been imbibing?" I do not wish to have a lush as the future mother of my child. Both women continue to smile mysteriously at me. So, I proceed, indignant. "I must say, ladies, I take offense at being called pretty and delicious. If you should remain constant in your desire to consider me solely as your eye candy, might I suggest you consider using more masculine descriptions? For example, I prefer handsome, or dashing. I can't imagine what, delicious, has to do with me. Besides, the adjective, pretty, is a descriptor for women. Like you, Aline."

Harken asks, lifting his hands up as if reaching to the sky to emphasize his point. "Maybe at first, but not so much anymore. He's just another pretty face to me now." Harken wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Word of advice; most guys don't like being called pretty." "It's a figure of speech for someone whose only good quality is their attractive appearance," she says with a laugh. Harken sits up off the ground. "Do you really think he's that attractive?" "Am I blind? Yes, he is very attractive. Just because I don't have feelings towards him anymore, doesn't mean his looks have gone away."

“You look too pretty to be a fighter. I would have expected something a little less aggressive.” I nearly choked. Pretty. My wolf was delighted. I was never letting her forget that. “Pretty?” “I would rather use pretty instead of handsome. I can’t pump your ego anymore than it already is. Like come on, one would even think that you’re enjoying this.” She said, and I chuckled. “What if I am?” “Then I might need to change that. I can’t have you thinking that I would be willing to go all soft on you simply because we are talking.” She said, making me laugh.

"You have a sister? Is it just as pretty? " I only managed to hide my blush by letting my hair fall in front of my face and looking around the street as if interested in the area. Pretty. He called me pretty. I've been called a lot of things in my life, including guys, but no one had ever called me pretty. To hear that was ... nice. "Wynn is the pretty one of the two of us." I looked at him briefly, only to look away again. "I can not imagine that."

"Sure, polite. Got it." She dressed deliberately. Her softest black tank hugged her curves like silk, showing the arch of her waist and the generous curve of her breasts. She paired it with snug jeans that framed her hips and long legs. Her dark curls were tamed into a high ponytail that bounced with every step. She bit her lip in the mirror, spritzed the faintest vanilla-amber perfume on her neck, and smiled. She wasn’t just going to drop off herbs. She was going to be seen.

Bobby babbled endlessly. “ Hello, Miss Ann” George greeted. “ Hello, George you look exceedingly handsome on your cravat” Ann commended smiling. “ thank you, my lady” George grinned with a well-practiced bow. “ Mrs. Hopkins says I yook yike a princess on my gown,” Bobby said. “ Of course, you do look entirely like an elegant princess” Ann replied. “Miss Ann, what does elegant mean?” George asked. “ It is another way to say beautiful ” Ann replied smiling.