Dessert Drawings Novels & Stories

She found that such moments made her life worthwhile. "I'll be right back!" Jasmine hurried outside. Larissa smiled as she was charmed by the cute girl. Soon, Jasmine came back with the dessert and brought along a drawing board. Jasmine asked, cheeks tinged with pink again, while watching Larissa enjoy the dessert, "Larry, would you mind being my model?" Larissa looked with a puzzled face. She asked, "Model?" Jasmine explained shyly, "It's an assignment my teacher gave me. I need to draw a portrait. I want to draw you, is that okay?"

It was just the two of them in a doorway, looking at what they were looking at, being exactly where they were. The drawing was in the centre of the desk. Katřina had made it at the kitchen table on a Saturday and had brought it to Grace with the focused pride of someone presenting completed work for assessment. The assessment had been: I’m putting this on my desk. Katřina had received this as appropriate. The drawing was in wax crayon, large confident strokes in the colours Katřina had selected, and at the bottom in letters that were entirely her own interpretation of the alphabet was written, in Grace’s transcription in pencil below: MAMA’S WORK. What the drawing depicted was not entirely c

Jessie cleaned up their dinner dishes and put them on the bottom empty shelf of the cart. She lifted the lids on the four smaller dishes to identify the desserts when she pulled them out and set them on top. She knew a lot of the Species weren’t fond of chocolate and ignored the fudge cake to study the other dishes. One was a mixed-fruit concoction piled on what appeared to be angel food cake. The other two were pieces of apple and pumpkin pie. She glanced at Justice for a moment, trying to decide which one

Wooden shelves held jars of dried flowers and small books, and every corner was cozy in a way that made time slow down. We chose a table near the window, and as I settled in, my eyes drifted—again—to the dessert display. I tried not to stare, but the lemon tart caught my attention with an almost magnetic pull. "You like sweets?" Alessandro asked, pulling out the chair across from me. I blinked, caught. "A little." His gaze followed mine. Then, without another word, he stood and walked to the counter. Moments later, he returned with not one, but six different desserts on a tray.

“It’s fine. You were right. And I appreciate you always keeping me in check.” She nods, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward the long table in the center of the room. “Come and see what I did with the dessert!” she says, practically glowing with childlike excitement. Laughing, I follow her—until I reach the table and stop short. It’s beautiful. Cookies shaped like dogs and other animals are arranged neatly on the trays. I pick one up, but instead of eating it, I trace its edges with my finger. “What does it remind you of?” she asks softly, resting her head lightly on my shoulder.

The top is completely covered of papers, crayons and colored pencils. Sketches filled the papers. "Nico..." She whispered as she approached the desk, curiosity immediately replaced amusement when she saw the first drawing showed dinosaurs. “You are so obsessed with dinosaurs.” The second sheet still contained dinosaurs. The third one, Althea stopped. Wait. Althea thought gently as she reached for another sheet. That wasn't... She picked up the page and saw several circles and circles. The sheet has drawings of hallways and measurements. No. She corrected herself as her heartbeat slowed. Not measurements. Rooms.

“And you are very opinionated.” “Correct.” Mrs. Bennett finally intervened. “Why don't we compromise?” We both looked at her. She pointed toward the dessert menu. “We can keep the formal desserts for the plated course, then have a small dessert station later in the evening. We could include miniature lemon tarts, chocolate éclairs, macarons and a few British pastries, including sticky toffee pudding.” I considered it. Sebastian nodded. “That works.” I looked at him. “You're getting your British desserts.”

I asked, curious despite the dizziness. Dante's eyes flicked to a shadowed figure nearby. "Nothing. Just... a familiar face." My heart skipped. "Who? What do you mean?" He shook his head, not wanting to say more, but my curiosity was already buzzing like the wine in my veins. The dessert arrived then—a delicate plate with dark chocolate mousse, a smear of raspberry coulis, and tiny edible flowers. It looked almost too pretty to eat, but I was already tipsy enough to dive in without hesitation.

Carefully and with reverence, she inverted the molds onto elegant white porcelain plates. The cake stood gracefully in the center of the plate. Harper then took a small sieve, dusting a fine layer of powdered sugar over the surface like the first layer of snow. As a final touch, she took a spoon and drizzled the remaining dark red cherry sauce around the plate in a dramatic, abstract movement. The dark red liquid flowed over the white porcelain, looking contrasting and sexy. Harper placed the porcelain plate on a large silver tray. Under the glow of the kitchen lights, the dish didn't just look like a dessert; it was a work of art that teased the senses.

“Reacting how?” Seraphine held up a finger. “I will demonstrate using pastries.” “No,” Ianthe said. “Yes,” Seraphine insisted, already arranging them. She placed a golden tart on the table. “Solaris.” Then a silver bun. “Lunaris.” Then a dark chocolate cake. “Noctis.” She put a fruit-filled éclair in the center. “You, Princess.” Alessia started biting her lower lip. “Seraphine…” “This is important dessert diplomacy!” Seraphine insisted.