Novelas y relatos de Duality Drawing

All the she-wolves seem to have a curvy body, a large bust, and the ideal buttock size, which makes me wonder why Connor chose an uncurvy and ordinary-looking human girl like me. Dalia, his sister, was a younger image of her mom; she looked 18, and also her husband, Beta Amir Grage, was considered the third leader of the pack. He had short, wavy brunette hair and eyes that make you think of the clear blue sky whenever you look at them. As I extend a hand to lastly shake Dalia. She spoke out angrily, "I can't pretend anymore, Mom, knowing Connor's stupid action is endangering our pack."

He held it out. Daniel took it. He unfolded it carefully. Inside were four drawings, pencil on the folded paper, the lines confident in the way of children who have not yet been told they might be wrong. Two floor plans — one familiar shape that was probably their house, one larger shape with rooms that did not map to any house he recognised. And two sections — the inside views, Owen had called them. Vertical cuts through imagined buildings, showing the interior in its full depth, the rooms stacked and adjacent, the walls thin lines and the spaces between them the actual subject.

Drawing was becoming her favourite thing lately. Not because she was good at it. Because drawing felt quiet. Safer than talking. Safer than thinking. She sketched fields from memory. The farmhouse. The oak tree. Her father standing beside the fence. She always drew him smiling. Always. Daisy sat beside her colouring badly inside the lines. Very badly. Jessica looked over. "The sky isn't purple." Daisy looked offended. "It can be." "No it can't." "Can too." Jessica rolled her eyes.

I didn’t mind this too much until I saw their artwork. In their second week of school, the Singh twins were working on sketches. These weren’t just your average sketches either, they were finely detailed, realistic masterpieces. All of them happened to be of me, too. Sharon was a little better than Jenny at drawing me. She drew my eyes so well that they looked like a photograph. Jenny was also busy drawing sketches of the classroom from different angles. She could even draw shades of sunlight coming through the window beautifully. She had a unique style of bringing the furniture in the classroom to life through a twisting and spiraling viewpoint. I had studied all the great artists in histor

Question after question swirled within him, a mental whirlwind that brought with it a dull ache behind his eyes. He threw back the covers and jumped out of his bed as a sudden idea sparked in his mind. He retrieved his school bag, unzipped it, and rummaged for his pen and notebook. On the blank pages, he began to draw two small boy figures taking shape under his hand. These drawings were a secret project, a gift for his little brother for their meeting tomorrow. The first drawing depicted his initial observation of the young boy from a distance. It captured the moment he had first noticed little Zadkiel from his hidden vantage point.

When she handed Felix the drawing, he took it with his free hand and carefully unfolded it. At the bottom of the drawing, the twins had signed their name with shaky writing – ‘Love, Aaron & Lily’. The work was more cubism than realism, with its clashing colors and distorted symmetry but it was undoubtedly the nicest thing that anyone had given him in a while. As he sat on the ground with a drawing from two ten year olds in one hand and Cassie’s dainty hand in the other, he felt at peace.

But that wasn’t what he was drawing today. There was a picture of two girls—rendered crudely in crayon, but still identifiable as girls. One of them had short blond hair and the other had long brown braids. Their hands were on their faces and their mouths open in screams. David had drawn these as big black circles. A huge black shadow hovered before them, a shapeless body with red eyes and clearly defined hands. The hands looked like long silver knives. There were many drawings before this one. Lauren wondered how long David had been at it.

His gaze was fixed—completely absorbed. Mrs. Ajayi’s fitted gown clung tightly to her figure, outlining her curves in a way that made it impossible for him to look away. His eyes lingered, tracing every movement as she wrote on the board. His breathing shifted. His focus disappeared. The classroom, the lesson—everything faded into the background. All that remained was her. While the rest of the class scribbled notes, Kingsley leaned back slightly, consumed by a dangerous obsession, his mind drifting into thoughts touching his dick he could no longer control.

Swallowing hard, I try to ignore the warmth of his skin, and pull the Codex closer. My hands trembles slightly as I start flipping through the pages myself. “I’m sure—” My hand stops abruptly. My eyes locks onto the image staring back at me from the dark red page. Two figures overlapped in one body, light and shadow twisting together in an intricate, almost violent dance. Wolf and human. And it had nothing to do with shifting. Ancient script curles around the drawing like vines. I can't make out anything from them. “Shawn,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “What do you know about dualism?”

That evening, Hazel walked into their bedroom carrying a sketchbook. "I'm finished." Aurora accepted it. On the first page was a drawing of their family. Aurora. Darius. Hazel. And two tiny babies drawn almost exactly alike. Both of them were wearing ribbons. Aurora smiled. "Why are they both wearing ribbons?" Hazel looked confused. "Are they not supposed to?" Darius leaned over to look at the drawing. "What if they're both boys?" Hazel froze. The little girl stared at her own drawing.