Novel & Cerita Emily Blunt Face

But out of the blue, he was walking again—looking a hundred times more powerful and terrifying than before. "Who helped you change your face?" Stefan asked. Emily was not supposed to talk. "I don’t know," she said. "You don’t know? Then describe him, and I’ll have someone sketch his face," Stefan replied. "I can’t remember his face," Emily sobbed even harder. She wished Stefan wouldn’t press her further. Stefan smirked and glanced at one of his guards, who nodded and left, returning shortly with a box. "Do you want to tell me what he looks like or die being stung by two thousand bees?" Stefan asked. Without waiting for Emily’s reply, he nodded at the guard beside him.

Emily's face whipped to her side, lips bursting. Gasps. That... That lady actually slapped her. Emily grabbed her cheeks, staring at the lady who slapped her with horror-filled eyes. The air stiffened. Everyone stood with wide eyes as if we couldn't believe what had just happened. Even Emily stood frozen for a moment. “Did.... Did you just slap me?” She muttered, still shocked. That lady crossed her arms, her expression still stoic, wicked. Unbothered. Like she didn't do anything wrong just now. How can someone be so cruel?

Emily offered a faint smile, her eyes tinged with sincerity. Sincerity in facial expressions often disarms others. Blake's guard dropped momentarily. He couldn't quite pinpoint why she seemed different since returning to the country. Perhaps it was her attire—she now favored gray and black over her usual pastels. "Blake, relax. I'm not here to cause trouble or reminisce. Can you stop looking at me like that?" Emily said, her heart aching under his scrutiny. "What do you want then?" Blake arched a brow, still wary.

In a few seconds, May’s face swelled up like a balloon. Emily instantly yelled hysterically, “Help! Somebody!” After that, she quickly grabbed the bald inmate’s shirt collar, trying to pull the woman away. However, she was unsuccessful. The bald inmate wouldn’t budge! The next instant, the bald inmate slapped Emily viciously across the face with the back of her hand. “It seems like you really want to attend your own wedding with a swollen face. Don’t worry. I’ll help you with that.” A second later, Emily fell to the floor after being struck, and blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Brightness clouded the room and my eyes widened like saucers used to feed elephant, to see who it was. "Your kick still hurts too much, Emily!?", she said, wiping the little blood from the corner of her lips before tugging at her hoodie which fell on her shoulders to reveal her scarlett curls and she shook her head a little to ruffle her hair that fell across her face with some admirable prettiness. Winking smartly at me, she extending a hand towards me for a handshake, her mouth chewing and popping bubblegum.

“I mean, his face. Describe his facial features.” “Oh,” Emily immediately felt stupid. “Oh. I mean, of course, that’s what you meant. I was going to get there. I mean, eventually.” Her smile didn’t leave her face. “Of course, ma’am.” “So, um, his facial features,” Emily was suddenly conflicted on what to say out of fear she was going to be overspilling. “He looks okay. He always furrows his brows but right, that’s not the point. How do I describe someone’s face? He has pointy nose? Not too pointy though. Like perfectly shaped pointy nose. Um, what else? His cheekbones? He rarely smiles but whenever he does, they come to life in a way?”

His face was fixed at the wall with no smile but disgust. “What are you doing here?!!” The gruttal voice sounded in her ears and she raised her head. “Oh my goodness!!” she placed both her hands over her lips Emily widened her eyes when she saw the face of the person.

The only way to shut him up was to comply. She sprinted—well, limped—to the basin and scrubbed her face until it stung. She unpinned her matted hair, trying to rake her fingers through the silver-brown mess. She looked at her reflection. No war-paint, no jewelry, just the hollowed-out look of a girl who lived on scraps. She wasn't an Alpha Queen with flawless skin; she was a mountain stray. She snapped the selfie and hit send. Silence. Five minutes turned into twenty. Emily pouted at the screen. Was she that hideous? Did the reality of her wolfless face kill the fantasy?

Taking a second bite of steak, I dropped my fork; my food now tasted bland. My face formed into a deep frown while my brain replayed the day's drama. I had to admit she didn't look as pretty as she did before, with her hair now a tangled mess and dark circles under her eyes. Yet, I was still very upset. Emily, like I'd known her to react concerning Adrian, was still very possessive and desperate—two traits that were not going to take her far. I clicked my tongue in disapproval.

With great hesitation, she turned her face backward. However, before she could speak, suddenly a punch hit her face, right in the nose. The sudden pain made her body fall backward, losing balance and unable to hold on any longer. Emily fell to the ground, shocked and confused by what had just happened. The pain in her nose, combined with all the emotions that had accumulated, made her feel even more devastated. This incident added to her list of suffering, and she was forced to face the increasingly harsh reality. It turned out that Connie, Lucy, and Jennie were following behind. Very cruelly, Connie punched Emily in the face, causing thick blood to flow from one of her nostrils. The violent