Broken Aesthetic Novels & Stories

I try to be polite as possible. " You better do and make sure you don't lose a tablet of those drugs. They are worth more than your life" He adds with his usual expressionless face before walking out. Gosh how can someone so attractive be so annoying. ################

To be honest, I thought I was over him but I guess I was totally wrong and the sensations I am feeling in my body right now are clear evidences of that. "Hey, Jessa how have you been?" Halley asks me, smirking. Just looking at her face, I want to just destroy that fake heavy makeup face of hers. Halley is now different from the best friend I had years ago. I mean, she is nearly unrecognizable with her fake boobs, fake butt and the annoying toy face, probably from too much plastic surgeries. Now, she sure looks like a typical bitch. I can't believe Edmond has been spending his money on her for all this fake body.

“I know.” Their hands brushed, and not accidental this time. They didn’t pull away. Above them, Briarcrest recalibrated, trying desperately to seal cracks that had already spread beyond repair. Fault lines didn’t heal. They waited. And the next break would not ask permission.

After the discussion, I and Hazel went back home. The next morning, I woke up with a new start. For some reason, I felt refreshed — as if a huge load of burden had been taken off my shoulders. I brushed my teeth, took a quick shower and had egg toasts for breakfast as usual. I glanced over at the thin window curtains struggling to stay still because of the wind whistling through them. I looked out the window and smiled as the cool breeze brushed past my face. "The weather seems nice today. Maybe I should go out for a jog?"

"You are an amazing person whether you see it or not. You see everything you've been through as bad luck but I see it as struggles that you made it through and became stronger from. I'm not scared of your past, Tiffany." Tiffany exhaled through her noes. She held a worrisome and somewhat sad look on her face which made my chest ache because I knew she was finding it hard to believe and accept that someone was willing to love her despite the baggage she was carrying. "Maybe you're right," she finally said, looking at me with soft eyes. "But... I'm broken and messed up and have pieces of me all over the place. That's not something anybody should have to deal with, Noah."

“Nineteen eighty-three, nineteen ninety-seven, and two thousand nine.” I lean in, the familiar part of my brain — the engineer, the problem-solver — waking up fully. “In each one,” she continues, “they addressed what they could see.” Her finger glides over an image where workers shore up visible cracks. “Surface breaks. Visible erosion. Cosmetic fractures.” “Cosmetic?” I echo. “Fractures that disturb the eye but not the story,” she says. Then her nail taps a darker streak beneath an arch. “But underneath…”

He stops her, not letting her go. Her stubbornness getting on his nerves. "Fine. " "But I need to know the reasons." They both stare and she sighs, asking him directly. "What is the definition of the word beautiful for you Ethan? He looks at her in confusion, but still answers. "Someone who is appealing to the eyes, someone who is flawless and stunning." "Exactly. And you look at me Ethan." "I a flawed in more ways you know." "I am broken." "I am a fucking mess dammit!"

My makeup was a disaster, dark streaks of mascara staining my cheeks like war paint, and the sapphire jewelry—once so breathtaking—now looked like a mockery of the girl I had tried to be. The moment I saw my reflection, all the memories came rushing back with a force that made me grip the edges of the sink. Every event that had led to me looking this way played behind my eyelids like a film I couldn't shut off. Most of all, Adrian's broken face flashed before my eyes. I could see the way his features had crumbled, the way his eyes had filled with a moisture that looked remarkably like genuine pain.

I whispered, “if you try to take more than a second—” (‘Give me control.’) The room blinked out. Not slowly. Not dramatically. Just—dark. When my eyes opened again, I was still standing. My balance wavered for half a second. Like I’d missed a step I didn’t know was there. I looked around. Everything was the same. Machines. Window. Chair. Then I looked at Beauty. And my stomach dropped. The bruising was gone. Not faded. Gone. Color had returned to her cheeks. Her lips were pink again. The strange darkness along her elbow had vanished as though someone had rewritten the last forty-eight hours.

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.”