Eyelashes Drawing Novels & Stories

“Elisha's still taking you?” Laura asked as Jenine sat in front of the mirror, dusting her face with light powder. “Mmmhhh,” she mumbled as she tried to apply the eyeliners. “You're getting it all wrong. Here, let me help you.” Laura turned the swivel chair around to face her. She couldn't help but notice Jenine's brown eyes that peeked out dollishly from under long lashes as she carefully lined the under of her eyes.

Everything in her body resisted. Each time she sketched it, the ache behind her right eye flared. The pen stuttered. Lines blurred. Ly—he’s— Aria’s crippled presence rattled behind whatever walls Elara had thrown up in her head. Lys gritted her teeth. She forced herself to add at least the shadow of an eye to the outline. Not detail. Just the suggestion of focus. Her pulse jumped anyway. She dropped the stylus for a second, breath shuddering in her chest.

On one page, there was an unevenly made sketch, it showed the features of a person but the drawing was prickly done that it resembled chicken scratches. He flipped open a few more pages of the drawing books only to revealed more of the similarly drawn sketches. Until he got to one page and stopped. On that page revealed the perfect protrait of a woman. The features of the woman in the protrait was perfectly carved, her innocent honeyed eyes, her long lashes and pointy nose, her plum lips and angular jaw. The sketch was done effortlessly to the the last details of the woman. Her hair cascaded down her shoulder as though it was a waterfall. The woman in the drawing was simple but pretty, she l

She stayed there until morning, she would just sit there until hours would pass but now she found paint under the piled papers. She saw her favorite color, the blood red, and black. She opened it and looked around. Who would know if she paints the walls? The dirty white walls looked too old and rusty. She found a brush and set it up all before starting painting. She dipped half of the brush into the red paint and dipped the other half into the black paint. She brushed the paint into the wall carelessly. She did lines crosswise and created a pattern of red and black. On that mess, she took a thin stick and dipped it into the black paint. Then she started creating outlines of the eyelashes of

I let my eyes fall over his face, lingering on each one of his features. His dark eyes were closed and the deep-brown lashes that frame them were fanned across his cheeks. I’d never really paid attention to them before, but looking close up, I could see that they were long and curled at the ends. They were girls’ eyelashes—perfectly formed and totally worthy of eyelash-envy.

Still here, I said softly. Eli made a small satisfied sound and leaned back against my chest and looked at the room from this new vantage point with the calm interest of someone who had upgraded their view and approved of the change. I looked at the drawings above the bed. Marker on paper in the bold oversaturated colours of someone who had been given a full set and had used all of them. Shapes that suggested things rather than depicting them. A large yellow circle that was probably the sun and possibly also a face. Several figures of varying sizes that may have been people or animals or both. What appeared to be a house. What appeared to be something flying.

In front of the child lay a large pad of heavy drawing paper, a scattered set of colored pencils Eleanor had produced from an old drawer downstairs, and the intensely focused expression of someone who had been given materials and was taking the responsibility entirely seriously. Eleanor sat in the high-backed armchair right beside her. Her reading glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, her own hardcover book resting wide open in her lap. It had remained unread for the last twenty minutes. She was simply watching Liyana draw. The child had been narrating the progress of her pencil for eleven consecutive minutes. It was a house with a disproportionately large front door. There was a b

LYRA POV Even though the room was dimly lit, it couldn't hide what surrounded me. Drawings. Everywhere I looked, there were drawings of me. Me standing in the garden, sunlight catching my hair. Me sleeping, my face peaceful and relaxed. Me walking through corridors, my dress flowing behind me. Me laughing at something, joy captured in careful pencil strokes. My hands shook as I reached out to touch one of the papers. The detail was perfect. Every line of my face, every strand of hair, every small expression—all captured with stunning accuracy.

That whole day they didn't go to work as her anxiety didn't come down that easily and he stayed for her making her feel better. One week has passed since the snake incident happened and their moods and lives are all set in its place. Currently, in front of the mirror, her hand slowly and delicately is drawing black eyeliner around her eye, on the bank side of her eyelids delicately on the top and thickly in the inside of her bottom eyelids and with a small stroke at the corner of her eye giving it a wing she parted away the pencil from her eyes and looked herself in the mirror while her husband watched her leaning to the wall just side to the mirror cherishing the inky art on her eyes.

When she did,she moved back a bit,smiling. "Oh, uhm... hello", she responded.I raised a brow, taking in her facial features. High cheekbones with rosy cheeks, soft slightly grey eyes, long narrow nose, thin neatly drawn dark eyebrows, pouty lips in the colour red, long eyelashes brushed with black thick mascara and an eyeliner highlighting her pretty shaped eyes.