Brighter Than The Dawning Blue Novels & Stories

Nothing to Blue could ever or would ever beat the feeling of waking up, sun warm through large, ocean-facing windows, sheets twisted up and duvet fallen to the floor, stark naked, with the male embodiment of sex sound asleep beside her, one arm around her and the other thrown over his eyes. With a small, subdued smile, Blue rolled over, lifting a delicate hand to rest against his steadily heaving chest. She watched as he stirred, arm falling from his eyes and head rolling to face her — to her dismay, still very much asleep.

(Aria’s PO‌V) ‍ The ligh⁠ts brighten again befor‍e I’m r‍eady f‍or them. Morning, or what passes for morn‌ing here. The white glow has n‌o warm⁠th; it erases shadow⁠s instead of making them.

I asked, unable to determine what I should be staring at. "The view, momma," he sighed, slapping his palms to his face. My eyes welcome the sunrise, that iris of fire so pretty in its mascara of pure light. Sunrise came as a golden tunnel to a world of forever light, how the greens and blues rose into a new and vibrant glow by the sunrise. The sunrise came as if it had missed the sky and wanted nothing more than to warm up those blues to a radiant gold. As it moves farther into the sky, the sun blooms on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It is the brilliant flower of the sky that warms our days. It is the invitation to a new day, that sunrise so ordinary

The tranquil rays of sunshine woke the world from its slumber, The sky was a dusky shade of blue, with a few hints of orange and pink peeking through the clouds. The air is crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of dew and the promise of a new day. Birds chirp melodiously, adding to the peaceful ambiance. The horizon was painted with a golden hue as if beckoning the world to come and embrace another day. It is a moment of stillness before the hustle and bustle of daily life begin, making it a perfect time for contemplation and reflection.

Another cold wind blew and she was glad to be in the house. Damien eyes were wide. Everything seemed so much sharper and brighter. There were far more colors than he had ever noticed before. Their bed cover, which he used to think of as solid blue, had variations in its dyed fibers that darkened and lightened the hue. Light reflected off metal shimmered with rainbow opulence.

Travian sank to his knees, the light of his wings fading into embers. “Hey,” he whispered, shaking him gently. “Stay with me, you hear me? We’re not done yet.” Soren’s lips curved into a trembling smile. “You… always say that…” Travian pressed his forehead to his. “Because I always mean it.” Above them, the sky shimmered — no longer wounded, no longer whole. But alive. And in its depths, the new dawn rose — not gold or violet, but a hue no god had ever named, born of everything they had been and everything they had broken.

As if the environment was adapting to impress me, seduce me, and convince me that there was nothing different from the mortal world. They were, on the other hand, curved bright spots and too large to be mere stars, like small imitations of waning moons, all scattered throughout the sky that took on a shade of dark blue with scarce clouds of a pale pink, in what I imagined to be what would be obtained by mixing black and a small part of red paint. The darkness and the fire above our heads.

````Would it be the last dawn?.°```` The pitter-patter on the cabin's roof, the smells of wet ground, the slow and cold breeze, the silence, the ambiance. The world slowly comes to morning, the calming state of early dawn, the calmness that would be addictive after all the storms and wild nights. The way the branches would dance gracefully, the way leaves swayed in the air. The way everything starts a new day, a new dawn, a new morning, a new ambition for some, and another restless day for others.

After a long dark night, the daybreak brought glimmers of warmth. The golden light softly caressed the land and ignited the birds into a chorus of melodies. Above those tangerine mountains, kissed to their heady blush by the sun, were clouds that moved in shoals. And so the sky was equal parts blue and a chorus of greys, streaked with silvers and golds. And in a moment she was cast in crimson, bathed in a rosy glow; how the sun gives each dawn without even the asking or the earning of the light. She moves her fingers through the air that grows brighter with each passing moment until it becomes a new bold day.

His bare feet shivered against the cold surface, as he winced mentally. He felt like he was miserably failing in a game of Twisters. "How the fuck is this comfortable," he murmured under his breath, scoffing as he adjusted himself more into Erin's usual stance. It was blue, that night. Very blue; bluer than the word blue. Maybe Uriel felt so blue, the world around him tinted to that colour. The trusty Moon radiated beams of unbendable light, so pure, so untainted, and that reminded him of a certain someone. Sneering, he cussed at the Moon, but it remained as steady as ever, shining even brighter. Wands of arising branches became dancing silhouettes in the presence of its brilliant light, bri