Novel & Cerita Hopeless Romantic Aesthetic

Our marriage had never been filled with lies—the truth had simply never existed between us. The video was still playing. I could hear "Oohs" and "Aahs." Someone urged Hera to share more details about their love story, "Tell us about the romantic things he did for you!" Romance? These people had no idea how dull Hera truly was. I had once poured effort into creating romantic moments. Each time, she showed less and less interest. Then, she told me she hated romance. These things were distractions. Illusions, even. An Awakenist valued only sincerity.

Damon Ashton Well, this is going to be an interesting stay. I'll make sure you'll fall for me and then, I'll break your pretty, little, and naive heart, Olivia. She can be pretty but she's too optimistic, a hopeless romantic and that weird style of clothing. But I can fix that. After all, a pretty face doesn't need much fixing. Still... it keeps bugging me. Like how can she even say I give her goosebumps with such a straight face? Since when did a hopeless romantic become this choosy?!

He remembered. “Before we start,” he said, shutting the folder, “let me be clear. If you’re here to breeze through this class, leave. If you think poetry is flowery nonsense, leave. If you’re here to challenge your mind and maybe get uncomfortable…” He smiled sharply. “Then stay.” The girls sighed collectively. Some giggled behind their hands. Emmy kept her expression blank. Carl paced slowly across the room, eyes skimming the faces. “Romanticism isn’t about love. It’s about obsession. Madness. Darkness wrapped in beauty.” He stopped again in front of Emmy. “Wouldn’t you agree, Miss…?”

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair

“Because it’s raw. It’s not romantic, it’s obsession, the ache that overtakes you, the pain that feels necessary. It mirrors real life, doesn’t it?” A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. It was gone in an instant, but she had seen it. “Yes. But you stop at the surface. You describe the ache, the longing, but why? What does it say about Keats, about the society he inhabits and about you?” The question was so personal that it stole the air from her lungs. “About me?” “Yes,” he said, leaning back again. “Why this particular flame, Scarlett? What is it you recognize in that kind of all-consuming, self-destructive hunger?”

It was reading that helped her escape her harsh reality, and even without noticing it, it has set her standard a little bit higher than she thought she could ever have. Yes, she is a hopeless romantic who is a virgin in all aspects. A hopeless romantic who has never experienced any kind of romantic relationship with anyone in real life. Yet here she is with her set of standards that can only be reached if you are Prince Charming. Prince Charming—a man who will sweep her off her feet and will bring her to her happily ever after. She is already in her twenties and she still naively believes that someone like that exists in real life. But, in all honesty, she is not necessarily looking forward