Face Description Example Novels & Stories

After a few seconds, Jane continued, "She had thin lips and a big nose. Her eyes are beautiful and wide." "Does she have any peculiar features? Like a mole on her face or something?" "No." Sydney was silent. There were no obvious peculiar features on the face. It was difficult to find someone with such a description. "If only we could get someone to draw a picture of the woman's face." Luke scratched his hair and said with a bit of frustration.

"Don't blame me. I don't know when I'll see you like this again." We stayed like that. I was just staring at him and he was making weird facial expressions— from a happy face, "This is how handsome I am when I smile,” to a grumpy frowning face, “This is my face when you have a period and we're not allowed to do it." I laughed. Like what he said, I memorized his facial expressions. I printed it in my head— how he smiles, how he laughs, how he frowns, how he jokes, how he will tell me I am beautiful and how he will say how much he loves me like an oath.

The face in the mirror could be described as anything but average___ Large cat eyes, long, thick eyelashes, long nose, and small face. "The original host is indeed... beautiful," Scarlet mumbled dazedly, her fingers trailing the flawless face. Fateball scoffed. "You've mentioned 'indeed' twice already. Annoying face-con!" Oblivious to Fateball's anger, Scarlet continued admiring the face. Her lips parting and closing, as she checked every angle of the face, trying to see if there was any flaw that could affect her... seduction. The sound of footsteps snapped Scarlet back to her senses, and she quickly dropped her messy bangs. As much as she didn't want to spend any more minutes looking ugly,

He was glaring with anger at me, and then right there in front of me, his face changed to a different one. I mean his face freaking changed in front of my eyes! It was like there was a witch somewhere that was helping him because I couldn't pinpoint how someone's face could change within a second. "You.... Your.... Your face..." I pointed at it and his lips slowly stretched to a thin smile.

Lisa turned the doorknob and entered Celie’s bedroom, excited to finally see her cousin. She looked at her face on the mirror, facing left and right to see her profile. She did not have a tall and thin nose like her father, but she did inherit her mother's eyes and high cheekbones. She smiled at herself, the ends of her lips curling slightly upwards. How did Mona Lisa smile? Was she really beautiful?

She eyed her again then surprised Calliope by taking her face in her hands and tilting it as if to critique it. Calliope allowed it with a bemused smile. "See that's better already. Your cheekbones are a bit high, which can make you look severe if you're not careful. But you've a lovely, full mouth. I could see men wanting to do terrible things to it." She grinned as Calliope made a disgusted sound and pulled away with a sardonic shake of her head. "But not if you grimace like that all the time," she added, "it makes you look absolutely terrifying."

I drop back into the chair, flipping the cover back to reveal the first page. My breath catches in my throat. Delicate lines trace the profile of a face, dark hair cascading down over bare shoulders. I’d recognize that face anywhere. I see it in the mirror every day. I flip the page. The next sketch is close-up of my face, a wide smile stretching my lips, eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s intricate and detailed, the shading so exquisite that it’s reminiscent of a black and white photograph. It looks like I’m laughing, blissfully happy.

But I was. Her face was etched in my mind like a work of art - the sharp angle of her jawline, the slight upturn of her nose, the full lips that seemed to pout even when she wasn't trying. I knew every curve, every contour, every freckle on her face. My sharp eyes taking in every detail of her. The shape of her eyes, like almonds, with a sharp outer corner and a soft, rounded inner curve. The color, a deep, rich brown that seemed to sparkle, taunting me. The way her eyelashes curled slightly at the tips, like a whispered secret. The gentle slope of her forehead, the delicate arch of her eyebrows. I knew it all.

I wave to my face, “to me.” She frowns, “very different,” she stands and brings over a picture from the other room and shows it to me, “this was a year ago.” I look at the picture and gasp, the young girl looking back at me has my eyes and hair color, but that’s all that resembles what I look like now, her cheeks are round, with dimples in the middle of each, she has a sharp nose and puffy red lips. I flip the picture facing down on the table, my hands go to my face, feeling my high cheek bones, sunken cheeks and sharp jaw line, I bite my plump lower lip, “well I don’t look like that any longer.” I stare at her, “do I live here with you?”

I’m too handsome to be like her more than a friend. She has so many pimples, it’s as if her face just grew on her face with the amount of pimples and acne she has. She’s flat chested, like she’s a walking plywood. Not sexy. She doesn’t have that smooth skin, especially her face, which already has acne marks.