Hestia Drawings Novels & Stories

he asked, feeling a bit odd. "I'll let you see my work later." she pushed his body slowly, asking him to go to the chair that she mentions. "O~kay." Asher finally gets up and sit on the chair as she instructed him. Statically and not moving at all. Athena is focusing on her drawing. Sometimes she will glance at him and concentrate on her sketching. For Asher to see the view of Athena when she was portraying him is beautiful. Her messy hair, baggy shirt with only her panties, and the way she glances at him are so alluring and sexy.

She touched one drawing. "This is the river. This is the buildings. This is the chamber." She moved her hand along the progression. "This is the arrivals. All of it, drawn, in order." She stopped. "And then this." Aria crouched down. The drawing at the end of the sequence was different from the others. Not architectural. Not geographical. Not the specific practical diagrams Elena had used for the physical preparations. A circle. Inside it, two figures. One large. One very small.

Stavros himself. With the other issues inside the head of Hestia swimming around, it seemed that she blacked out from the reality as she immersed herself into thinking about those issues— not necessarily worrying them— but just ‘thinking’ about them. After all, Hestia has the tendency to just think about things, to ponder them around and try to make sense or try to formulate a plan in any case that those issues are to be encountered in the future. And in her perspective, it is just her letting her mind swim to the vast ocean that her head was, and in the eyes of the outsiders, especially of the Student Council members who are the only ones who were able to see Hestia being totally relaxed fo

He led Hesper to put down the suitcases before turning to face her. He felt that Hesper was beautiful when he took a glance at her just now. He did not expect that she was even more stunning when he took a closer look at her. "Are you Zenovia's assistant?" Hesper shook her head. "I'm her designer, and I'm one of the guests on this reality show too. My name is Hestia." It was only then the coordinator knew who she was. When Zenovia contacted them, she told them that she would only join the reality show if they included one more person, and that person was Hestia.

"What does your new friend look like, Heidi?" Heidi proudly lifted her drawing. It was a crude, childish sketch of a very tall figure standing between two giant green trees. The figure was colored completely in dark gray and black crayons, but the most unsettling part was the face. Heidi had used a bright yellow crayon to draw two massive, perfectly round circles for the eyes.

Her gentle voice was patronising and like obedient children each parties withdrew their hostile stance and never spoke another word pleasing this beautiful woman. And when her searching eyes fall on me, my lips part in a gasp shamelessly drinking in her sharp features. Her hair!! Her hair was of fire, like a waterfall of flames tumbling down to reach her waist with a simple metallic brooch pulling it away from a face of refined composture, her nose slender and long, lips a shade darker than her skin of caramel and emerald eyes with hints of sapphire peeking through lashes in an alluring curve. "I am Hestia." She smiles with plump cheeks like the petals of camellia flowers.

Arianna turned to look at me in disbelief. “You can’t be serious?! Do you know how humiliating that is?” “Good.” I looked over to my men. “Make sure she does her job.” “Yes, Boss.” I turned around and went inside, not sparing her another look. I tossed my phone on the couch, resuming to the sketchbook, and flipped the pages to see what Althaia had created. She was very talented when it came to drawing, and it showed as I looked at the sunsets, and many different drawings of her kitten playing around with toys. I stopped when I came across a particular drawing, having me smile.

I ran a hand through my hair, gripping the back of my neck, angry, tired, and embarrassed. "Asher?" a small voice said. I looked up. Zaya. She stood at the edge of the porch, holding something in her tiny hands—a crayon drawing. Her eyes, large and filled with concern, studied me. “I drew this,” she whispered, holding it out. “It’s you. And mommy. And all of us. We’re smiling.” I took the paper gently. A lump rose in my throat. It was stick figures and crooked hearts, but it made my chest twist painfully.

She thrust a slightly crumpled piece of paper toward him. Elena smiled, setting the plates on the table. “Let’s see it.” The drawing was a simple, colorful sketch: three stick figures holding hands, with a sun overhead and a small heart above. The heartwarming innocence of it contrasted sharply with the harsh reality he was living. He placed a hand over the paper gently, careful not to crumple it further. “This is beautiful.” he murmured, eyes softening as he looked up at Elena. Aria beamed. “Do you like it, daddy?”

It was folded into a small square. "I drew a picture," he said. "Did you?" Aurora took it. She unfolded it carefully. It was a drawing of the penthouse. A tall black rectangle. At the top, in the windows, were four stick figures. A tall one (Papa). A medium one (Mommy, with a circle tummy). A small one (Ethan). And another tall one with a hard hat (Uncle Marcus). But around the building, Ethan had used his black crayon. He had pressed hard.