Dark Love Artwork Novels & Stories

We all turned to the man who blushed as he was caught spying on the intimate moment of our absolute captivation. “However tempting that is,” she said pulling his chain and bringing him as close as she had brought me. “We aren’t done. She leaned back to the table behind her releasing our chains and dipping her hands into two bowls of translucent liquid and letting it drip off before placing those hands on each of our chests over our hearts. With a click, the lights flicked off, a dim black light came to light on the far wall and when her hands released from our skin her prints on us glowed bright, mine blue and Beau’s green. “It’s time to make art,” Issac said proudly, an emotion of sentiment

Dark of Night Copyright 2019 Emily Goodwin Chapter One “What do you see when you look at this one?” The doctor holds up a card, showcasing an ink splotch that’s twisted and creepy, with eyes that follow you no matter where you go. I look at it, heart hammering away inside my chest. The mess of ink on the white paper reminds me of the monster that lurks in Nana and Papa’s basement, the one that tried to get Abby and Scott to go downstairs with it.

Kai had captured me as I was, not a helpless victim, but a creature born from shadows. In the painting, I stood surrounded by swirling, stormy brushstrokes of midnight blue and deep crimson. My sharp jaw was lifted high, my dark hair whipping across my face, my eyes painted with a fierce, burning intelligence that practically vibrated off the canvas. But what made my blood run cold was the detail, the stark, raw honesty in my expression. He had painted the pain in my eyes, the silent trauma of the Eclipse, and the unyielding defiance that kept me standing.

he was lucky, damn lucky, to find someone who ignited something in him that was never ignited in me. Love. Not that common, gentle love. No. I'm talking about sick love. The love that corrodes and addict. Ace feeds on her. On her gaze. On her touch. On her scent. She is his axis. His drug. His serum. The anchor that keeps him from sinking into the same ocean I drowned in years ago. And now they are my drug. I want to be able to manipulate the emotions of both of them at my will and create my art that will mark history.

He's such a fan of him. Switching sides, aren't you? I just want to help you with your confusion. "Fine," I finally agreed even though it sounded like a dismissal. "Let's dance and get over with it." A crook smile plastered on Demitri's face. However, even with the smile, his face looked hard as ever like some sort of granite in its finest. And those eyes of his. Two pools of darkness waiting for someone to be drowned into it. He's like a walking tragedy, a storm that could destroy anything if he wants.

Only if only, if we were just the normal loves. Rather than the wall, we have a builder with secrets hidden inside either of us who does not agree to break out of it. Only if I let you in my world which is filled with the darkness not with the colourful like it used to be. Will you also let me into the world of colours that you have stopped building? The white canvas just stood in front of you as I just watched you just stared at blankly. While mine dipping down with the red pain on the floor making a puddle around my feet.

Our eyes met, and I felt a jolt of electricity run through me. The artwork was a stunning pair of eyes that seemed to bore into my soul, conveying two emotions at once: love and…lust. The black and white pencil strokes were delicate yet bold, capturing the subject's essence with haunting precision. My gaze lingered on the eyes, and a pang of sadness washed over me. I sighed deeply, reluctantly tearing my eyes away to face the woman. "I'm sorry, but this is not for sale," I said, my voice firm but gentle. The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "But why not? It's so beautiful."

You should take a look. I grabbed his phone and looked at the photo that was on the screen. The painting was made of abstract brush strokes of a dozen shades of blue, grey, and black. It could easily be interpreted as an ocean during a storm or the sky right before a storm. But I knew better. It was an abstract painting of my eye. She always said that she loved the color of my eyes. She had painted them several times. It couldn't be anything else. Right below the painting was its name. Everlasting Love.

Before I could stop myself, I turned it and pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit, the air carrying a faint, woodsy scent mixed with paint. My breath hitched as I stepped inside. The walls were covered in canvases, all of them depicting the same image: a melting face, caught in a horrific scream. One canvas stood out, larger and more vibrant than the others. The paint was still wet, glistening under the soft light. Beneath the image, a word was scrawled in bold lettering: darkknight.

Masseur I bid you welcome Did you think that I would harm her? Why would I make her pay, For the sins which are yours?! Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now Except perhaps Christine Start a new life with me Buy his freedom with your love Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death This is the choice! This is the point of no return! The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, Grow cold and turn to tears of hate!