Novel & Cerita Hopeless Romantic Aesthetic

He was now looking at these two lovers made out of ceramic. “Those too. All of the sculptures and paintings here are left by previous tenants who can’t afford to pay their last rent. I guess I’m blessed that I found this place with all of this aesthetic stuff and I’m not even that type of person.” I added. I’m not really that type of person. I don’t care about aesthetic and style and fashion. As long as they look good, I’m perfectly fine with that. “Wow, you are so lucky.” “I doubt that.” I trailed but I kept my voice soft that I’m the only one who heard what I just said. I’m not really that lucky. In fact, I’m not unluckiest person in the world. Rock bottom has its firm grip on me.

he said with a smile still on his face. "Enjoy your freedom, be good," he added, walking away from her. Monica turned as she watched Ace till he disappeared into the corridors, actually, she's been admiring the last lord of Huntersville, for a very long time, though she did well mask her feelings towards him. Like who would live in this house without falling for any of the Moreau brothers, they all reeked of perfection. Sebastian the one who never smiles, but his stoic face will have your heart melting.

“Drunk on their own reflections. Every one of them bought and bred to kneel.” Julian chuckles, deep and amused. “You always were a romantic.” I finally turn. The room pulses with desperation. Gold chandeliers throw light across the rot—models half-coked, tech founders pretending not to stare at barely legal dancers. Girls in couture too tight to breathe, too desperate to care. They orbit me—hope in heels. I scan their faces. Perfect cheekbones. Overfilled lips. Eyes wide with hunger. I imagine ruining them by category—bending the redhead over the balcony rail until she sobs. Forcing the brunette to gag until her makeup runs like ink down her face.

His arm brushed Ethan’s, just barely. The contact was nothing but was also everything. Ethan inhaled sharply. Dante didn’t comment on it but he didn’t move away either. If anything, he seemed more focused, more attuned, as though Ethan’s reactions were another layer of data in an equation only Dante understood. You’re tightening your lines because you’re trying too hard to be perfect, Dante said. Architecture isn’t about perfection. Ethan managed, then what is it about? Dante looked at him again, it's about intention, he said softly and honesty. Even when it’s uncomfortable.

They’d been rendered irrelevant by two people refusing to step away from what they chose with full awareness and no permission. And that that was the kind of romance institutions never knew how to contain.

"I wrote this. I used the pencil. This was supposed to be real!" The little girl with the blue balloon giggled. The sound was like silver bells, but it made my skin crawl. She skipped through the chocolate-mud, her white dress staying perfectly clean. "The Shareholders love 'Realism,' Kaima," she said, popping a small chocolate bubble with her toe. "But they don't like the *uncomfortable* parts of realism. They want the 'Aesthetic' of struggle, but with the comfort of a dessert. It's called 'Gourmet Survival.' It's trending on the Lunar Colonies right now."

If he had told me two hours and five minutes ago, before the sun had set, maybe things would be different. We wouldn't have had to confess our love out of necessity. No one mentions how love pursues torment more than it does comfort. Hopeless romantics are irrational masochists, for who would willingly want to experience a piercing pain they know will eventually come? I am a hopeless romantic, I laugh. Because of that, I say it back, "I love you too." Maybe if the world was kinder to us. If he wasn't forced into a burning

I liked novels in the fantasy genre and romance by the way, but ironically I liked to incorporate that into my hopeless romantic stance. In my teenage years, because I liked reading such romance books, I often believed that there was a handsome man who would love me so much and came to me like a handsome prince fetching his princess. Who adores me from head to toe, who's so madly in love with me. However in adulthood, I realized that I had to separate fantasy from reality. I can't rely on my fantasies because it'll be disappointing if they don't work out the way I want them to, like I did with Sebastian back then. Because of the novels I've read, I've come to see Sebastian like he's a perfec

"You want to become a nun!?" "Well," I shrugged, "those two are almost the same. I shall offer this body to the Moon Goddess and none else." I gestured with my hands. "I shall make every inch of me pure and abandon any secular thoughts including investing interest toward men. That is why I chose to be aromantic. So stop flirting with me and sleep." "Oh..." Guilt struck me like lightning when his face slumped. Guilty... Guilty of feeling sympathetic by making him hopeless! Guilty of the pride of my love! "Hessuel, aren't you going to s-stop m—"

Or had she not even been aware of the fact she'd been in like, not in love, with the guy? Xavier shook his head, not understanding in the slightest. She had the hugest bleeding heart, comparable to no one else, and was a hopeless romantic. She didn't walk around in la-la land spouting sonnets, but under her skin, in her bones, she was a romantic. Why would she ever consider anything but the real deal?