Book Quote Aesthetic Novels & Stories

She smiles, and I nod, as w esay bye, and I end the call. ___________ I walk into the bookshop, I'm wearing a blue sundress, my hair is plaited into a bun, glasses perched on my nose, and a nude bag. I stare round the bookshop, It's aesthetic, giving p*******t-y vibe, I smile, loving the decor, and the music playing softly, I recognize it as one of Halsey's masterpiece - Clementine. "Hello." I smile at the woman behind the counter, I look at the book she's reading, and I smile in approval.

"I'm Muslim! You're supposed to be hating me for that! I'm not Russian or Danish! I'm not European! I'm not Christian! Why can't you go back to hating me?!! You could get any pretty girl you want!! I'm not even pretty, I-" "Enough!" He irately ceases my ineffective rambling. "Don't you fūcking dare utter against your beauty in my presence, you have no idea in what enthralling ways your aesthetics affect me... like a madman with a thirst unquenched." I can only but blink up at him in my awkward stance. He continues, Impassioned. "Staring at you provides coolness to my eyes, and when you're not near, my eyes fūcking ache for you."

Normally I would call it beautiful because that's what it is. I take a good look at what it is complimenting. Beautiful? How does this look beautiful to it? "I would be questioning how good your eyesight works, but then..." I trail off. 'You can say what you want but in time you'll see what I'm talking about.' I keep taking a look at what it's trying to convince me about the aesthetics. There was nothing special about it. Nothing too great that could make me wowed. I wonder what it's making it convinced that it was indeed beautiful.

He was showing her a crack in his armor, a project he cared about that was flawed. Hesitantly, she stepped closer, studying the model. She forgot, for a moment, the pain, the betrayal. This was a pure problem. “It’s too perfect,” she said slowly. “The sightlines are all controlled. Art needs surprise. It needs awkward corners and unexpected light.” She pointed. “Here. Break this wall. Make it irregular. Let the exterior weather touch the interior. Force a conversation between the curated and the chaotic.” Kaelan stared at where she pointed. A slow, real smile touched his lips not a smirk, but a spark of pure, intellectual recognition. “Yes,” he breathed. “That’s it.”

Not like anything has changed. It’s the same as it was with the aesthetics of poison. I like to imagine it as my own space by hanging framed images of actual Space. I don’t show off as a lover of black on the outside, and don’t overdo it—I mean, dark makeup and sorts. Even my home didn’t have a gothic vibe until I came across this interior design on social media. I know I made the right choice by that. Because even after all these months, I’m still stunned by the design.

The air was thick with the scent of aged books and old money, a testament to the power held within these walls. "Your instincts for beauty… for art," he mused aloud, tapping a pen against his lips. "It's not just skill—it’s raw talent. You have an eye for what's… enticing." "Is that so?" I leaned back, feeling the leather hug my frame, making sure not to get too comfortable. His choice of words—enticing—sent a ripple of warning through me. "Indeed." He flashed another polished smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They remained cool, calculating. "But let's not talk shop all day. Tell me, how are your classes going? Any special projects?"

An ideal world where no competition is allowed, only a crowd, which despite being exhausted, is relentless when it comes to one day reaching the standards of beauty that belong to them. That is why, tonight, I choose to challenge everything he believes in by clinging to the theory that yes, aesthetic beauty is certainly attractive, but over time, one will need something more to keep the admiration burning like a flame. This may be intelligence, charismas, or a lost soul for those who love to mend one. The pity being that, most of the time, this becomes a rip-off. For when plunging into the depths of another, one may be startled to discover that our pure desire does not match at all with our

“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?”

She looked really good. "Babe, it suits you so well", I gushed. I got my hair washed and dyed a midnight blue that the blue tint would only be visible in bright light. Once the hair was dyed i got a Brazilian blow dry to temporarily straighten it. Afterwards we got lunch and then went to American Swiss, I had bought her a bracelet that said "We rise by lifting one another" a quote by Robert Ingersoll. It also had my initials, ZLM and a heart engraved on it. I had asked them to do it when we were at the Sorbet. I wanted to give her a little gift to remind her of me. She cried when I gave it to her and then we parted ways.