Hitam Violet Novels & Stories

She firmly demands. “Agree to your terms.” I reply. Our order is called, and Violetta quickly walks over to grab her drink and food. Her ponytail bounces behind her. Violetta has beautiful wavey hazelnut brown hair that goes to her mid back, but she keeps it pulled back for work which I understand given her occupation. I follow suit in grabbing my part of our order and follow her to a secluded corner of the seating area for people to eat their purchased goods. We are sitting across from one another. I gaze into Violetta’s hazel eyes. She’s so fucking beautiful and she doesn’t even know it.

Why so hyper? Violet sat there calmly, looking at him. Her eyes were screaming about her fearless nature. He took the notice and gave it a thought. "White is a pure color, the color of love with purity. I think you are leading a widowhood. If you have to pick a color, why not go with black? Roaming around in white, is this how you live a widowed life?" He assumed she would be upset to hear about her widowhood. However, to his surprise, she did not react at all.

she was feeling nothing but peace and happiness. “I hate that I like this,” she muttered. Adriana beamed. “I love that you love it.” Violetta picked a few sets herself—soft colors, elegant cuts. Adriana, of course, added a few more to the pile with a very deliberate smirk. Red, Emerald, Black, and maroon, she added all of them to the cart, too. “These are from me,” she said. “Think of them as… character development.”

The space was mostly dark, the floor-to-ceiling windows covered by the heavy blinds. He shrugged off the wet coat and hung it on the rack. His boots left faint wet prints as he went over to the bar cart in the corner. Then he poured three fingers of whiskey into a low tumbler. A soft click came from the living room. Daniel paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Violet Chen stepped out of the shadows near the sofa. She wore all black, from her leather jacket and her tight jeans to her boots that left no sound. Her dyed purple hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, her face pale.

Violet said as she's trying to push me out from her changing room. "No baby.. I'm staying here.. No." "She won't go anywhere." Blake pulled me out and I sighed. "I hate you, Austin Portwalt!" Violet hissed before Jean closed the door. "See.. See that behavior! If she runs away.. I'm going to kill you!" I hissed at Blake and he laughed. "She won't run away.. If she does.. You can make another wedd-" I turned to Blake and glared big time. He gestured to me to get into my changing room. I walked in and turned on my laptop to activate the CCTV in Violet's changing room.

For the past centuries, Soles from either sides hadn't found the Vermilion yet. This Vermilion was the one power that could stop the other. This was the reason as to why the world had still been experiencing two opposing forces; light and dark, good and evil. Because no one had succeeded in finding the power source Vermilion yet. This was the reason why the Vermilion was so important to be found and be kept, especially by the Ibawnons, so as to maintain the balance of the world. For if the Malignobons would have it, nothing but darkness and chaos would surely be spread to the whole world.

It was Violet. Dressed in a flowing gown that mirrored the moonlit sky, her ebony hair cascaded like a waterfall, framing her delicate features and illuminating eyes the color of twilight. In her presence, a sense of both vulnerability and fierce determination resonated—an echo of her turbulent past and her unwavering spirit.

The air in the Basin was humid, smelling of damp earth and predators. Ivy arrived early with Noah. It was April, the moon was transitioning, and the heat was rising. She wore a slim yellow dress that caught the dappled sunlight, her dark hair falling to her waist like silk. She didn't need jewels. She stood there, and the other she-wolves simply faded. “Look at her,” someone hissed from the Copywriting pack. “Fallen socialite or not, she’s still a Mercer. She thinks she’s too good for the dirt.”

As always, everything to the boy with the burgundy hair… seemed too obvious. "Very little...I just remember decorating some flowers and colors" she felt frustrated to admit. "Hum..., well, violet has that meaning, it represents shyness and hesitation too, and depending on where you look, it also represents loyalty." "Nice…" those irises that resembled cut amethysts flickered, as for some reason...it looked interesting to know, to memorize. "Yes, and again, it suits you," he repeated, placing his hand in front of his face, only to stare at her.

They were violet! It was him! The man in the shadows!