Arthur Morgan Hairstyles Novels & Stories

She knew the jeans hugged her curves in all the right places, and the top complemented her natural beauty. Next, Morgana moved on to her hair. She had naturally curly hair that she loved to style differently every time she went out. Today, she decided to let her hair down and create loose, beachy waves. She took her time, using a curling iron to create the perfect curl and then ran her fingers through her hair to make it look effortless and natural.

】 Morgana hesitated, then actually crawled down from the ceiling like a giant spider, squatting obediently in front of me. "If it's not comfortable... I'll turn you into fertilizer," she threatened through her leaking mouth, though her voice clearly lacked conviction. I slapped a huge glob of nourishing hair mask right onto her weird, dripping hair. "Less talking, relax your scalp." I massaged vigorously, muttering, "Look at this dryness... this is the consequence of staying up late and neglecting maintenance. From now on, in this house, I won't allow you to be this sloppy." As I massaged, Morgana let out a comfortable groan. The terrifying illusions of venomous snakes on her head slowly van

I say as I walk inside the bedroom. Morgan wore a beautiful open-back white chiffon evening dress with long laced sleeves and chest pieces. Her bridal hair updo had a pearls headband trailing from her low messy bun up and above her left ear. -"Naomi, it's nice to see you again." She came over to hug me. I sensed an uneasiness in the air, and the sad smile she gave me told me something was off. -"Is something wrong, Morgan? Are you okay?" I politely ask as she walks away from me.

It works the men all laugh. We return our attention to the TV just as Morgan and Geena climb on the podium. He is dressed nearly, but his hair is styled in a way that he appears slightly disheveled, giving the viewers a look that says he is worried about what they think when he does not give a damn. Geena is standing by his side in black with glasses and a handkerchief as if she is mourning something. Pfft. Drama queen.

Can’t say I regret it, ‘cause the chaos would’ve swallowed me whole otherwise. Arthur’s this really tall, bulky college guy. Twenty-one with dark red hair like a ruddy stop sign, and green eyes that seem to glimmer even when he’s spillin’ sugar all over the counter. Dead cheerful though, proper sunshine, but slow in business. Still, he’s dragged in a gaggle of ladies who queue up just to gawp at him like he’s some weirdo fairytale prince, instead of a clumsy barista who can’t steam milk without creatin’ Mount Everest in foam.

Morgan is truly a great beauty, her long thick curly bronze hair, sultry topaz eyes. Her perfect unblemished cinnamon skin. Dressed as an a****n ready for battle. Her perfect hourglass figure and her ample breast put a spell on the male and female species. I would bet my life they’d sell their souls to touch her. It was like an angel, and incubus had a baby, and the outcome was Morgan. On her back between her rose gold wings laid her sword.