Blushing Drawing Novels & Stories

A white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small, shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her, as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes, it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her.

She huffed out a sigh as she reached out and the charcoal in her hand broke the deep silence in her studio as it scrapped against the canvas. Shina tilted her head to the side and nodded as she made a few more strokes and then passed her shading tool over the area to blur the edges of the image she had just created. She had made the stable image of a deer but it was looking down into a pool of water and now she was blurring the mirrored image she had created in the pool of water. She felt it would be a closer match to the other images she had submited and hoped they would just accept it and move on. She finished up and carefully covered the piece and put a sign up for her Agent to take the p

When there were only a few pages left, the tone of my drawings changed. The objects and animals that I drew were not alone this time. I no longer drew a stormy or dark night, but a scenery with sunlight and good weather. The flower was accompanied by a dancing butterfly. The bear cub has found another little bear. The rabbit was happily nibbling on a carrot. Ah. This was the time when Layla and I started to be together. At the end of the page, I was surprised to find out an outline of a person's face. Since the sketchbook was old, the paper was slightly yellowed which affected the clarity of the drawing. I could barely see the outline.

Or maybe the wind had pushed them shut the way it sometimes did in this old house, as if even the weather understood shame. She sat cross-legged on the carpet in her room, an open sketchpad in her lap and charcoal dust on her fingertips. The page stared back at her, half-finished, like always. A single eye. A curl of hair. A mouth, slightly parted. The kind of face people might stop for. She always stopped before the rest of it came. Because she never knew how to draw the other side. Her hand paused near her cheek. The skin there always felt warmer. She didn’t need to look to know it was red today. It always flared up when she was nervous. Or sad. Or simply… breathing.

A gasp escaped my lips immediately as I saw what he had been busy with and I turned to look at him before facing the canvas again. On the canvas was a drawing of me and my wolf, my hand over her white fur, my hair, a mixture of brown and white flowing over my shoulders, touching her fur to make a combination. There was a look of intrigue on both our faces, as if we had seen something, as if we had seen the love of our lives standing somewhere close. “It's lovely.” I stammered, looking away as I could not bear to look any more without falling for the artist who had drawn it. “You just saw Lia once and you already know what she looked like.”

My whole body buzzed like I’d swallowed lightning. I could still see her face—Natalie’s face. Lila’s face. No. Not Lila. I began to sketch. The lines came fast at first—angled, angry strokes, more emotion than form. But as my hand steadied, the features took shape: the high cheekbones, the heart-shaped mouth, the sweep of dark lashes. The expression was serene. Regal. Infuriatingly familiar. Too familiar. My fingers smudged the charcoal to shade beneath her chin. I added the glint of moonlight to her hair, a suggestion of sapphire fabric around her shoulders. The more I drew, the colder I became. The heat of my earlier fury hardened into something sharper. Controlled. Useful.

"I'm fine." "Your hands are shaking, Lila." She lightly brushed her fingers against my wrist to stop my movement. Her skin was warm, just as I had imagined it would be. She also smelt like a mixture of vanilla and coconut. "You've been distracted throughout the lesson today, and your painting is a bit off." She gestured to my painting. I was trying to draw the image of a solemn woman but I messed up the colors a bit and her head was slightly bigger than her body. Overall, it was a mess.

he chuckled and quickly glanced down to wipe his eyes with his cheeks reddening slightly. I need someone to pinch me right this instant. Am I dreaming or is the bad boy really blushing right now?

He had been drawn much more realistically, his hair, nose, and eyes, perfectly proportional to his face, along with the bit of stubble that he was now getting from not shaving for so long – the bit of stubble that had scratched perfectly along Emmet’s thighs last night. His hair and face had also been shaded in, as the shirt that Lila had drawn him in remained uncoloured. His curls fell down to frame his face, and his eyes shone in the light shafts that Lila had drawn in, the reflections within them gleaming like soft, golden halos. Emmet ripped out the page that Jasper was drawn on and held it up, noticing only then that Lila’s face could be seen from the other side. He cursed her for a mom

I winked at him. " I trust you and your artistic skills," he assured me. I placed the brush on his collarbone, moving down his chest, drawing the silhouette of a snake across his muscles. His eyes followed my every move with a smug smile on his face. I couldn't deny that Liam was handsome, and if it hadn't been for the feeling I had already noticed Skyller had for him, I probably would have taken the opportunity to find out if he lived up to his reputation. I finished the drawing with white paint, making some details like eyes and scales, ignoring the other girls' glances at our little interaction.