Beauty And The Beast Aesthetic Novelas e Histórias

“The North is barren. How exactly are you going to draw the interests of people?” “Aesthetics.” “And how exactly is that going to work?” “The same way every capital city works. If you make something beautiful, people are not going to worry about if it is fundamentally functional.” “Is that why you invited Lady Borisque from Ducroft even though people would know you’re still alive?”

I smirk as I look down on Ajax. His cold glare doesn’t even look nearly as scary as when I am standing on the same ground as him. ‘That’s cheating, Belle! You are using your lycan form!’ ‘Don’t be ridiculous. This is just me using my gifts.’ I give him a toothy grin. I feel like my smile is scarier as a lycan than it is when I am a werewolf. ‘Get down from there.’

But something kept her there, as he lifted his eye to her, holding her in some sort of spellbound. She felt her breath hitch as he looked up to her eyes. Dark grey eyes that looked like the clouds of rain at midnight, hair that was beautifully blonde and silky, it got her imaginations running wild. She swallowed as her eyes skimmed down his face. Straight roman nose, and heavily defined, pale pink cupid's bow lips. His jaw line was so straight, she could imagine how it would feel in her hands. He had left his three top buttons undone, and the tops of a toned body came into teasing view. She could see the tops of a tattoo to the side of his neck, and hell, she wanted to see where it led. Wher

I asked, my heart racing as I looked around for the beast. The man walked over to me, placing his hands on my face as he gazed up at me. "I am the beast," he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. As I moved closer to him, I inhaled his musky scent mixed with a hint of pine. It was a heady aroma that filled my senses, making me feel dizzy with desire. I slowly placed my head on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart against my ear.

prologue luca Beauty and the Beast. Everyone knows how that fairytale goes, right? How an egotistical motherfucker gets trapped into a spell by a wicked witch, because he looked down upon her, judging her by how she looked before even knowing her. Then having to break that spell by having a woman fall in love with him in his monster form. Except, I’m no fairytale prince. We all know that all the happily ever after’s from the movies are bullshit.

Diana was entranced. This woman, this statuesque creature was frighteningly beautiful. And deathly still, with her eyes closed. She looked like she came out of a fairytale. A literal deity. She had dark green hair that framed her face in large, unruly waves. A headdress decorated with sharp silvery spikes and fluorescent moonstones, porcelain skin, and a heart-shaped face. There were weird symbols drawn on her forehead, her chin, and her small, pouty lips, all painted with the same color. Black. And she shone under the moonlight, like a precious gem. Her headdress, her luscious hair. Even her skin appeared translucent, with a sheen that reflected the cold light like marble.

Oh. I looked back at the woman. She was beautiful, but not in the obvious way, not the kind of beauty that arrived first and flattened everything else behind it. It was something more deliberate than that, more controlled. Her hair was a pale expensive blonde, too light to be natural, too well maintained to be accidental, bleached and polished within an inch of its life. It should have looked harsh. It didn’t. It suited her in the same calculated way everything else about her seemed to. She wore elegance like instinct — nothing loud, nothing careless, every movement measured, every gesture economical. She held herself like someone who had spent years learning exactly how much of herself to r

he smirked, looking at me intently with a cheeky smile. My brows slightly crossed. I lifted my chin, daring him to look at me even more. "Drew Mondragon," I muttered under my breath. He never smiled, and his eyes were still glued to mine. "Be tough, Beauty. This is the reality of your dreams. They will offer you something in exchange for sex. Some are vulgar as they want to taste you badly. You've got the body, the beauty, plus your name is Beauty." Drew's jaw tightened, and his eyes turned down, staring at my legs.

Electric, like it had been pulling us towards each other. What I felt for Professor Cain was nothing but an innocent crush but for Peter…it was attraction. Was I stupid to believe he felt it too? That kind of attraction was something two people felt. But that was ridiculous. There was no way Peter Melton was attracted to me. He was so…hot. And some of the girls were right. He looked like a foreigner. His skin…God, he was gorgeous. Those strikingly gorgeous blue eyes, the detail of his face. I supposed he was what they called a Greek god. I imagined if Zeus or Poseidon were a teenage mortal, they would like him.

"She doesn't smell like a shit..." Aurora smells like fresh flowers and he can't forget the scent which allures him to sleep. "And the last thing, she knows how to answer verbally..." He gritted. "You are not beautiful like her..." He glared at her. She looks exactly like Aurora but she lacks the innocent aura which Aurora holds. Her glow is different and that is what makes her beautiful. Her skin is alive and glows even if she is depressed. She has the beauty which comes from within. "Anything else you want to know about my girl..."