Falling Aesthetic Novels & Stories

"Zachary really fell for you at first sight, huh? You must have some crazy charm. "He fell in love instantly, and you believe love grows with time. You two are perfect for each other. But now I know— his love at first sight had long since faded. Time had worn it down to nothing but indifference.

She said, "Don't get mad at Ms. Granger because of me, Mr. Gray. I'm just a stand-in…" Ha. She knew her place, didn't she? Honestly, I wanted to applaud her performance. She acted like she was swallowing her grievances to win Marcus' pity. He fell for it hook, line, and sinker. His chest heaved with rage, and he glared at me, his confidence boosted by Janae's words. Then, he pointed at me and snapped, "You've completely lost your mind, Renee! Do you realize how unbecoming your behavior is? You're like a shrew now, not a proper lady! You disgust me!"

"Sure, why not?" Alexa said with her mouth filled with cake. 'I wonder what she's gonna ask now,' she said mentally. "Is he handsome?" Stacy blurted out. *clank* Alexandria dropped the spoon with her mouth wide open. Stacy grinned when she saw the look on her friend's face. She wanted to know if the so-called jerk was handsome. Alexandria, on the other hand, became red with anger and embarrassment. She was embarrassed because Stacy was right, the man was handsome. A pair of cyan eyes flashed through her mind.

I didn't know why but out of all the boys in school, my heart decided to fall for The Decadence of The Fallen's "Ice Prince" and lead vocalist. A nobody falling for the most popular boy in school had to be the greatest cliché of the century. A sort of cosmic joke that the universe decided to play on a mere mortal like me. And everyone in the whole universe seems to be laughing but me...

It was mine. Alyssa slowly flipped open her packet, pretending to be unimpressed. “And what exactly do you think Weston wants to desire?” she asked smoothly. “You’ve been away for years. Surely you’ve forgotten that people here don’t care about philosophy or art. They want status. Visibility. They want to be envied.” I tapped a section of the packet and met her gaze directly. “That’s exactly what we’re giving them. This collection isn’t about blending in. It’s about presence. Clean lines. Strong shapes. Colors that bite. Textures that whisper. Everything about it screams confidence.”

Heat rose to her neck. “I meant creatively,” she said quickly. “Surviving creative burnout.” A tense silence followed. The kind designed to make people unravel. The man on the right flipped through her portfolio. “Your aesthetic is darker than we’re used to. But compelling. There’s a sense of edge… control.” “I think luxury is about tension,” Aria said. “Desire without safety. Wanting what you shouldn’t have.” The woman narrowed her eyes, but didn’t disagree. “Mr. Vale will want to approve any final shortlist,” she said.

Not fallen. The thought arrived before he had consciously reached for it, forming itself from the evidence in the vision the way diagnoses formed from symptoms, from the weight of accumulated observation rather than a single moment of decision. He looked at what was in the vision and applied the word that Heaven used for what he was seeing and felt the word's complete inadequacy. Fallen implied descent. Implied loss. Implied the movement away from something of value toward something lesser. What was in the vision was not lesser.

"They’re happier this way. Both sides. Why should a starving man have to look at a penthouse he’ll never touch? It’s humane to keep them separate." She led me back toward the surface, the transition from the rot below to the crisp night air above hitting me like a physical blow. The disparity made the luxury of the upper streets feel oily. "I wanted you to see the vision," she continued, sweeping her hand toward the glittering skyline. "Havenfall is a masterpiece because leaders like Ethan Cole aren't afraid to cut out the cancer." I wrenched my arm away from her. The girl I thought I knew was gone. "It’s a masterpiece built on a mass grave."

She had meant for the word to come out stronger but it came out faint. Nate grinned as he towered over her. It almost felt like she got prettier everyday, he couldn’t get over it. When he was at work, random images for her in the kitchen or at different parts of the house kept coming to his head. Each time they came, it made his heart flutter and his lower member bulge. He groaned, he had to do something about his bulge before it got out of hand. “It’s a little surprising that you haven’t gone to a beauty pageant. With this beauty, you would be the cover of all the magazines” he smiled and stroked her cheek

He was the kind of beautiful that lured people in just to watch them fall apart under his touch. And Amara hated that she noticed it. Hated the way her eyes betrayed her, tracing the high angles of his cheekbones, the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his dark hair was tied loosely at the back of his neck, stray strands escaping to brush against his temple. There was something effortless about him—something unfair. Confidence poured from him like an unshakable force, something woven into the way he moved, the way he spoke. He commanded attention, demanded submission without ever asking for it.