December Aesthetic Novels & Stories

The fact that we’re here, in his atelier, is almost too good to be true. He gestures to the workbench. “Today, we’ll be working on a piece I’ve just started. It’s a necklace inspired by the Art Deco movement — lots of geometric patterns and bold, contrasting elements. I thought it would be fun for you both to help me finish it.” Colette gasps softly beside me. “Woah...” Alain chuckles, clearly pleased by our reaction. “Shall we get started?”

“I’m parked in Duffin’s car park. I’ve seen this amazing Ostrich feather light and I just need to get it for the apartment.” “Ugh, not real feathers I hope, Autumn. You know how they treat those poor birds.” Maybe she can see the look of horror on my face. “Don’t be daft, fake ones. I’m as animal cruelty free as you are, Honey. You know that. I’ve ordered an emerald green one, it’s going to look amazing with my art-deco décor.” It’s true, it will do. Everything in Autumn’s loft apartment looks stunning, she spends a lot of money on antiques mainly from the 1920’s to the 1940’s era and her style is eclectic.

I couldn't believe how much time has passed since I met Adrian and the rest of The Decadence of The Fallen. It's been more than a year now but somehow, it feels longer. We celebrated birthdays together. We supported each other through our failures. We cheered each other on with every difficulty we faced. We've been through so much already. The ups. The downs. The in-betweens. I mean I couldn't even imagine a life without them anymore...

That’s not a compliment. “That’s the aesthetic we discussed,” Weston reminds her, his tone patient in a way that suggests they’ve had this conversation before. “Farm chic. Rustic elegance. Remember?” “Of course.” Her smile is bright and brittle. “It’s exactly what we talked about.” It’s absolutely not what she wants and we all know it. I make a mental note that Eloise’s moods seem to shift like weather patterns—warm and engaged during the dress fitting, cool and dismissive now.

On our wedding day, the officiant asked, "Do you agree to spend the rest of your life with the man standing before you?" Bianca, the woman I had loved for ten years, hesitated. In the end, she shook her head as she clutched her phone and said, "I don't." Then, she grabbed my younger brother, who had just slit his wrists, and ran out of the venue, tearing off her wedding gown as she fled. She never once spared a thought for my dignity the entire time. Heck, she didn't even look at me. Afterward, she simply said, "We'll just make new wedding arrangements. There was an emergency that day. Someone's life was on the line. I couldn't just ignore it, especially when he was your brother." Howe

“He’s surrounded by people who give him answers. I need to be the one who gives him questions.” I spent the next three days buried in my role. I became Aria Vance, art consultant, with a ferocious single- mindedness. I compiled a digital portfolio of pieces I knew would appeal to his stated aesthetic— bold, minimalist sculptures, stark black-and-white photography, hyper-realistic paintings that showcased technical mastery over emotional expression. Everything was sharp, clean, and controlled. But I also slipped in two other pieces. One, a small, haunting

It was mine. Alyssa slowly flipped open her packet, pretending to be unimpressed. “And what exactly do you think Weston wants to desire?” she asked smoothly. “You’ve been away for years. Surely you’ve forgotten that people here don’t care about philosophy or art. They want status. Visibility. They want to be envied.” I tapped a section of the packet and met her gaze directly. “That’s exactly what we’re giving them. This collection isn’t about blending in. It’s about presence. Clean lines. Strong shapes. Colors that bite. Textures that whisper. Everything about it screams confidence.”

Heat rose to her neck. “I meant creatively,” she said quickly. “Surviving creative burnout.” A tense silence followed. The kind designed to make people unravel. The man on the right flipped through her portfolio. “Your aesthetic is darker than we’re used to. But compelling. There’s a sense of edge… control.” “I think luxury is about tension,” Aria said. “Desire without safety. Wanting what you shouldn’t have.” The woman narrowed her eyes, but didn’t disagree. “Mr. Vale will want to approve any final shortlist,” she said.

"And now I need to contact vendors again because Mr. Edward Sterling suddenly changed his aesthetic preference for the third time this month." She already started calculating possible replacements in her head. Recently Sebastian had become obsessed with cubism-inspired decorations and minimalist dark-toned furniture. Before that, it was abstract contemporary art. Before that, industrial modern design. Keeping up with his tastes was exhausting. Still muttering under her breath, Desiree walked toward the office door and pushed it open casually— Then she froze. Her jaw slowly dropped. "...What the hell?" The office looked like a natural disaster had personally visited the room. Everything was d

“ I’m Aesthetic, but you can call me Thea sir. “ She said and smiled. As she observed the man who’s wearing a white suit, she noticed how good-looking he is. From his brown hair down to his black eyebrows. His unique shallow eyes that looks so interesting to stare. His well shaped jaws and the bridge of his nose, as well as his sexy lips that seems so tempting. He's also tall and masculine like Ace. This man! This man's presence is so captivating, like he would lock her up from his seductive world. “ Aesthetic means an art. “ The guy whispered right into her face. She watched how his lips curved a sweet smile. “ Your name suits you well lady. “ He added with a low voice. Thea began to observ