Black & White Novels & Stories

Black's attention. With his meticulously groomed, dark hair, glowing olive skin, thick brows crowning striking blue eyes, and a jawline as sharp as a sculpture's chisel, Eric Black was a man designed to stir desire. His full lips, ever-curved in a confident smirk, held an unspoken promise of indulgence and satisfaction.

Can’t men and women go to public places labelled as friends? “Hey, which one? Black or grey?” he asked while holding two shirts. “I have seen you in a lot of black shirts already. And black is not a good colour to wear under sunlight. I choose white,” I answered. “White is not even on the choices. Come on, pick.” His brows were furrowed. “Black,” I said. He returned the black just as I expected. “You said black is not a good colour under heat but you picked black,” he said while I follow him to the counter. “Because I know you’ll pick the grey one after hearing what I just said.

she widely smiles when she saw her little sister. "Sarah, there are both black and white in this world. These two colors are parts of our life. God puts us in a world of black and white for us to see everything, for us to realize that life isn't about happiness only." Sarah walks near to her little sister. "Don't worry. Everything ends with a happy ending. If this is not happy, then its not the end yet," Samantha said before disappearing from Sarah's sight. Sarah turned her sight to the sea. Realizations hit her. "You're right, sis. It is not the end yet."

Then black. Nothing.

Bia really was the right person to take care of Bian. Two sets of eyes with completely different colors locked onto each other: deep black and clear brown. Though the colors were vastly different, they held the exact same spark, reflecting each other's faces. It was a simple gaze, devoid of any attempt to convey a specific message. They had merely caught each other looking, yet both owners of those contrasting eyes felt as though they were compelled to stand still and soak in the gaze offered by the other.

Even the bronze fades before my eyes, dulling down into black. Pure black. Which means that I’m a Witch.

No longer silver. Black. Pitch black. The Moon had turned its back.

After he had received the instructions, the man drifted from the wall and moved to plain sight. Ibekwe's heartbeat increased as he saw the white and black paint in different parts of the man's eyes as he came closer to him. The white paint was in his right eye. The black paint was in his left eye. He was dressed in Osisiakalaka's attire and he was chanting a song that Ibekwe had only heard from the mouth of Osisiakalaka. The man that looked like Osisiakalaka ran quickly and stopped. Fear gripped Ibekwe. What will happen now? Why did he stop? Again, the man drove his painted eyes, moving from the desperation that hung on Ibekwe's head to the burden of being disturbed by his own mind that hung

It’ѕ ѕаd tо lооk аt the rеѕt of thе photos. Bу then, thе fаmіlу wаѕ аlmоѕt entirely dіѕіntеgrаtеd with Blаkе аnd Brenda dоіng whatever they соuld to gеt bу. Nеxt, I ѕее ѕоmе photos оf Blake drеѕѕеd аll іn blасk, rеаdу for wоrk as a doorman. Hе looks handsome.

Black's POV "Wow." White said as he stared at the school's entrance, which had extravagant decorations. "This is a school festival, right?" "I guess so." I replied. I don't know what White sees, but everything that I could see was just monochrome. I'm sure these decorations make people feel festive or something, but I guess that's gonna be impossible for me. 'Should we go inside?" White asked. "Ah, yeah. Where do we give the tickets though?"