Blood Sweat And Tears Artinya Novels & Stories

The crayon colors blended deeper into her fingerprints—pink, blue, brown, and green, creating a rainbow-like stain on her pale skin. Her nasal passages were completely sore. Tears welled up in her tear glands. This time, there were enough tears to flow. They spilled over from the corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, past her lips and chin, and dropped onto the painting. The tears landed on the butterfly’s left wing, creating small, wet circles on the pink crayon paint. The paint was slightly dissolved by the tears, leaving light pink streaks on the paper. “Why are you crying?” Olivia asked. Her voice sounded confused. The crayon remained in her hand, with the tip pointing downward, tremblin

why was I not enough? I ripped the airpods out of my ears, causing the paint to swish on my face. I wiped at my cheek, feeling wet, pulling my hand in front of me to see if I got the paint off. Realizing that I hadn't wiped any paint, and that I had wipe my tears instead. Breathing heavily I folded my arms in on myself and began to sob. While my painting remained filled with dark clouds and lightning above a dimly lit forest.

Or was I being too dramatic? I didn't realize when the sad tears slipped past my eyes, but I felt too tired to raise my hand to wipe them, so I let them stream past my cheeks. Even if I wanted to, there were blood stains from the rogues I killed on my hands, so if I raised my hand to wipe them, I'd end up carrying a scary, bloodied face. I can't leave Arya feeling shocked and disgusted. I pushed open the door, low in spirits, and trudged downcast to the sofa, the sad tears rapidly streaming past my cheeks. My heart was pounding, and my lips were trembling. I sniffed and raised my arms to wipe my face.

I whimper as another wave of pain shoots through me, the tears continuing to flow. “What’s wrong, baby?” I see the panic-stricken look on Tate’s face as he rushes around the bed and to my side, his hands brushing away the hair that sticks to my face. My body shivers from the cold sweat now coating my skin as I cry out in pain once again.

The bowl was emptied and cleaned, it shaking now and again in my hand with the water having turned crimson. My body moved, turning on the shower hot water knob with the water spraying out. I peeled off my torn clothes, throwing them on the ground. I don’t even know how I was still standing, I just kept telling myself to move and soon I would just let myself crush. Steam rose from the water, stepping in the shower, the cloth I had just used in my hand. I brought it to my face, covering my face with it as the first few tears slipped out. I shook my head, knowing that if I continued crying there, I would not stop. I wiped my face, taking my shower gel, pouring it on the wash cloth to wash all t

Arya watched in wonder as the tears streamed down Amaris' face. His tears pooled at the rim of his eyes and made their way from his beautiful blue eyes to the ground giving the illusion of a river flowing seamlessly through a forest. Drip…Drip! If anyone ever told her she was going to be in this situation today, then she'd have flung a shoe at their face but here she was, standing before a beast that was shedding tears. The culprit?....Her!

Miss Fatima asked her with a sweet tone. Sarah looked up to them. Her sight is blurry because the tears are the obstacles for her to see clearly. She wipes her eyes using her hand but instead of making it dry, her eyes became wetter. Her hand that she used to dry her eyes is also wet because of sweat. Miss Fatima noticed that Sarah is having a hard time drying her tears. She looks at the towel for she thinks that it can dry her eyes, but unfortunately, it is also wet. The sweats from Sarah's body is too much that it made the towel wet just for a few wipes.

I couldn’t hold my tears and they glide across my cheeks. I keep on scratching the file as I don’t feel much good to open that fie. I am scared to open it. I don’t want to see them in red painted scene. I don’t want to see that blood one more time. I don’t want to see the pains in their eyes one more time.

Brene Brian's shoulders trembled, slowly raised her head, revealing a face of uncontrollable struggle, tears like pearls continuously falling, unable to suppress the snort sound coming from her nose. Sweet Pea Guun has never seen Brene Brian cry so excitedly, for a moment, a little confused, "You...... Don't be sad, don't cry." Brene Brian looked up at Sweet Pea Guun with tears in her eyes, crying without a voice: "Sweet Pea Guun...... don't hate me, I'm not dirty."

Many times his eyes darted to the edge of the path he was passing. The movement in the thickets brought Orda to a halt again, his horse grunting and neighing softly. Orda drew the double-edged ax he threw onto his back. The handle of the object was rather long and silvery in color. Each blade bears a sign of a roaring tiger. “Whoever you are, come out,” Orda said, his voice was firm yet still. Even so, a drop of sweat seemed to be dripping down his forehead.