Novel & Cerita Broken Aesthetic

He was utterly broken. “I’m sorry for causing you too much pain. I didn’t mean to destroy your relationship with Nikky.” I rushed to apologize without giving him a minute to get a hold of himself. Dr. Dane said nothing. Instead, he dropped to his chair, his hand met his face, and he wiped it with his palm, trying to act like the man he was.

I whispered to myself staring at her thin, lean but clean and beautiful hand, threading her fingers with mine and imprinting every little detail of it to memory. “I don’t know how to deal with them. I don’t know how to take care of them. They are so broken that I can’t even recognize them. Heck, I am barely hanging on myself.” I shook my head and stared at her face. She just laid there with her eyes closed, face so beautiful like she had just dropped straight from the skies.

she called her father to eat. (Dad) * spit the food out* YOU GOOD FOR NOTING CHILD! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS HUH? I SHOULD HAVE FORCED THAT WOMAN TO ABORT YOU WHEN SHE WAS PREGNANT WITH YOU! Her father spat the spaghetti at her face. and walked out. Earlier that night

There was no way she could be serious, but by the way the beast rattled inside me, I knew she was. The one person to tempt me in years, to draw me in like no other and make me beg for mercy, my enigma, thought she wasn’t pretty? She was beyond pretty. Gorgeous. A broken beauty whose water-filled eyes tore at my chest. “Of course I am. I’m not stupid,” she said, her teeth clenching as her bottom lip quivered. “I know I’m plain, boring and a workaholic…useless.” Her hand flew up, covering her mouth, but the damage was done. Literally. Darkness poured out of her, despair and loneliness radiated. The beast clawed to be closer, to absorb it all.

In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.

Alicia woke up at 6:00 am, before the clock rang; she had slept very little because of her nerves. She got out of bed, took a shower, and when she got out of the shower, she looked for an outfit for the interview. She didn't know what to wear, so she grabbed a black skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse. She looked for some shoes, finding some she hardly ever wore. These were black with a bit of a heel. She dried her hair and then brushed it. She also looked through her things for some makeup and sighed when she only found blush, eyeliner, and a burnt red lipstick. Without thinking twice, she put it on. Alicia didn't like to put on makeup, she wasn't used to doing it, that's why there was so

He was expelled from his convent, cast out, left to fend for himself in a world that doesn’t forgive magical mistakes. He ended up homeless. Addicted. Lost. Maybe that’s why we get along — two broken people orbiting each other because no one else wants to get close. He’s tall, muscular, dark‑haired, green‑eyed — the kind of man people mistake for a wolf until they feel the hum of magic under his skin. He’s not a friend, not exactly, but he’s the closest thing I have to one. When my scent started slipping through the cracks of my control, he helped me create a masking spray. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t push. He just helped.

Impatiently, he kicked the hospital bed and snapped, "Stop pretending. It's just a little anesthetic. Do you need to sleep for so long? Get up. I made you get cosmetic surgery for your own good. Don't act like it's such a huge grievance." Of course, I couldn't answer him. I was dead. Livid, James lifted the sheet and kicked me off the bed and to the ground. "Stop playing dead! Have you learned your lesson or not?" The sheet covering me fell to the ground as well, revealing my ashen face. It wasn't a complexion that a living human could have. I hadn't had the chance to heal after the cosmetic surgery, so my face was still swollen and ruddy. James frowned when he saw me. "You're still so ugly.

Patrick complains as the photographer is about to take Luna's picture. "What's wrong with my cheeks?" Luna mumbles, touching both sides of her face. Patrick then approaches Luna and brushes her cheeks with a makeup brush. "I think earlier I applied peach blush, why did it turn red?" Patrick mutters while trying to eliminate the red tint on both sides of Luna's face. No matter how hard Patrick tries, the redness doesn't seem to fade. Luna clears her throat in embarrassment and brushes Patrick's hand away. "Enough, just leave it, it will disappear eventually," Luna responds casually, causing Patrick to look at her with a puzzled expression. Luna, on the other hand, struggles to suppress her sm

I checked myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. The black long dress my mother bought me was hugging me perfectly. It wasn't anything fancy. It was elegant and classy. It was perfect. To make it more beautiful my mom applied me red lipstick. Don't mind me but my mother did my makeup. It was after all a business party we were going to. I couldn't risk doing makeup on my own and messing things up. Or in this case, mess my face up.