Charli D Amelio Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Somehow, with that beautiful hair, now sexy and wild, her mesmerizing eyes, and perfect body, she didn't seem to realize what she did to me. The idea that she needed all that makeup or a garish outfit to stand out was absurd. It was wrong on her. Alexandria Collins—my Charli—exuded elegance and culture with the perfect hint of sexy vixen. It was a unique blend of perfect qualities. I didn't know anything about her, not really. I knew that for a week I'd made her a princess, and with everything in me, I wanted that title for her for a lifetime.

She was dressed in a business suit with a pair of black high heels. She was beautiful. Pulling her hair back highlighted the unique shape of her face. Her large eyes and pointed chin set her apart from a typical online celebrity look. There was a real charm about her. The only adornment on her was the glistening red of her lips. Damon gulped as he stared at her. He was yearning to kiss her. Others didn't understand Celeste, and even Damon's friends said she was beautiful but too aloof. Only he knew her better. He found her adorable when she was mad. In fact, he had the urge to hold her tightly in his arms whenever he saw her.

He studied himself in the mirror afterward, barely recognizing the person staring back. Too clean. Too composed. Like a version of himself that had been edited. A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Charlie said quickly. Emily entered with a stylist in tow, already speaking. “We’re going for understated today. No visible branding. Minimal jewelry.” “Thank you for the clothes Emily but how did you know my size?” He said looking at Emily. She did not respond and didn’t even bother looking at him. The stylist approached Charlie without introduction, fingers light but efficient as she adjusted his collar, smoothed his hair back from his face.

He looked polished, he looked comfortable, and he looked elevated. She knew that look. He didn’t own that lifestyle, he simply wore it. And if Amelia was the source of it, then Amelia was the bridge. Shantel returned to the desk and opened her laptop. Amelia’s social media page filled the screen. A recent post: a quote about loyalty, posted just a few hours ago. Shantel leaned closer. “Still preaching loyalty?” she murmured, amused. “Let’s see how loyal your man truly is.” She opened another tab, Charles’s page. Scrolling, she studied.

These scars. "You're still beautiful," Carlos said. You don't have t o worry about that. Aháva adores you a n d doesn't care what you look like —he added —Although seeing it from a n other perspective, they give you a sensual air, almost like a pirate —Carlos joked, letting out a laugh. "I think what you're worried about i s what someone else might think, right?" Charlie commented with some mischief. "Dominik i s the least interested in how you look, I'm telling you." Carlos winked at her.

She said with a cheerful smile. Oh yeah she definitely looked awesome. Her face was filled up with glow and her responses were full of sarcasms. And don't get me started on her dress today. She was wearing this amazing floral pink and white maxi dress giving off her cute vibes. I was absolutely in love with her cute hairstyle and white open strap anklet heels. That cute crushable style really stood out today and that's what I told her. After what felt like five minutes of praising and hyping each other up, we were interupted by Charlie.

Dear God. She subconsciously swallowed and she also wet her lips. She didn't understand why she did that, but she liked it. His hair was slightly scattered and he looked cute. He was sweating a little bit and that surprisingly made him look…sexy with the way a few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead because of the sweat. Ariel couldn't take it any longer. He wanted him, his lips and…the whole of Damien. The thought of this made her smile inwardly.

She was not some stranger who would just walk in and leave without an effect. She was more than that. And worse… she was beautiful. Not in the vain, superficial way Lysandra flaunted. No. Delilah had that effortless kind of beauty, the one that didn’t need much to leave an impression. With her long dark lashes, soft voice, and mysterious demeanor, it was the kind of presence that made men stop and look. And Damon… He looked. Even if he didn’t mean to. Even if he didn’t want to. He still looks at her, he still watched, and deep down I knew that he found himself getting lost, admiring even.

Charlotte flipped her hair, fixed her shirt, smoothed imaginary wrinkles on her jeans, then posed like she was being photographed for a magazine cover. “Okay,” I muttered, grabbing her phone. “What kind of vibe do you want?” “Pretty girl energy,” she said. “Like ‘oh I don’t know you’re taking pictures of me but I look naturally flawless.’” “You do know I’m taking pictures.” “i said the vibe, maya. not reality.” I lifted the phone. “Fine. Show me the naturally flawless pose.” She immediately twisted her body into something that looked like a pretzel trying to flirt.

I barely manage to refocus when Delta Alistar calls, “Step through! Front stance, high punch!” My eyes wander back to Charlie, noticing how her olive-green singlet contrasts against her sun-darkened skin. She's wearing black biking shorts, sneakers, and her long raven-black hair in a tight bun that I know will fall apart by the end of our run. Charlie always threatens to cut her hair short. Each time she does, Dev, Bray, and I protest. Dev loves braiding it, weaving flowers into the strands whenever we hang outside. Bray just likes how it frames her face—he hates when she puts it up after training, always pulling it loose. And me? I love running my fingers through her hair. It calms me, feel