Imperfect Novels & Stories

“She is not ready, what do you mean by she is not ready?” Hamilton snapped, “did I not ask that you get her ready?” he added, glaring at her, his beastly nature coming alive because of his anger causing Clara to get frightened. “I did get her ready like you asked, Hamilton but the thing is, she is not fit for you to go to her at the moment, that is what I meant.” Clara stammered.

This may be the decision I will regret, but I know to myself that this is what my country deserves. A rightful relationship, a rightful marriage. A true born princess, and a true born prince. I don’t exactly hate Thomas, it’s just that I didn’t really think of him as my partner not until now. He’s smart, brave, and decent, much like a perfect prince, but he has an attitude. An attitude that he doesn’t show to other people except me and Althea. I found him sitting by the bench beside a fountain, so I slowly approached him. Before I went to the garden, I had my maids retouch my face and lessen the puffiness of my eyes.

she says spitefully looking him up and down, wow I didn't know it was gonna take this turn. "That poor boy was just walking by and accidentally bumped you, he could have apologised but you just went along and hurt him" he spits back annoyed, I took a step back as they got ready to punch each other looking each other dead in the eye. "You can tell you're not from around here, if you show one sign of weakness, for instance, letting some guy walk into you, it shows other people they can try something," she says getting into his face, she was absolutely right you can't seem like a weakling here or people will walk all over you.

(eg when Becca speaks, the format will be as this: Becca ~ “What is there to explain, Matt.” Full adaptation is dependent on the popularity of the Interactive Story. Let me know what you think, of My Perfect Mess. Happy reading, Tatum Whispers ************************* He has done it again. As if the first two times were not enough, I am once again shattered. Why do I believe him every time? Why do I believe him when he says he won't do it again! “Becca, please wait. It's not what you think. Let me explain.” “What is there to explain, Matt.”

He'd stopped mentioning it. Some things were allowed to be imperfect. Some things were allowed to be his. This was a lesson that had taken him longer than he wanted to admit. He was a perfectionist—not in the casual way that people used the word, but in the actual way, the way that meant the gap between what he could imagine and what he could execute was a source of constant low-grade frustration. He had spent years trying to close that gap, trying to make the thing he made match the thing he imagined, trying to eliminate the distance between vision and reality.

his voice soft and tender. "Um, it's nothing ." He extended his hand, his eyes locked on hers."Ethan "he said his voice low and Elena's hand slipped into his, her palm grazed by his fingers as they shook. "Elena," she replied. Their hands lingered for a moment. "Sorry once again for the mess up, it wasn't his intention to do that."Ethan pointed at the other man. "I am sorry ma'am." the average man bowed. "No worries, I am fine."

And the reality, as bitter as coffee, seeped through, leaving a stain that no brush could ever cover. So here I am, staring at that ridiculous painting, wondering how I ever fell for such a perfect imperfection.

"I never claimed to be perfect. Never said I was pure. Never declared myself absolute good. Others may believe that. Others may worship that. Others may claim that. But I know the truth. I am flawed. I am imperfect. I am capable of harm. Even while trying to love. Even while trying to help. Even while trying to save. I can be both. Can be love that sometimes harms. Can be good that sometimes does wrong. Can be hope that sometimes violates. Because I am complex. Because I am real. Because I am a being who exists, who chooses, who acts. And actions have consequences. Choices have results. Existence includes mistakes. I am not perfect. I am simply trying. Trying

It's our fifth year together, and I accompany my fiance, Theo Montague, to see the aurora he has always yearned to see. Fortune favors us that night as vivid green lights stretch across the snow-covered plain. He wraps his arms around me from behind and suddenly murmurs, "It's beautiful. Too bad we're still one step short of perfect." I freeze for a moment and ask him what we're missing. He doesn't answer, and I don't press him, either. After all, I've heard this phrase far too many times. When I go to great lengths to get him the out-of-print book he has his sights on for ages, he sighs. "We're still one step short of perfect." When we move into our beautifully furnished house and f

her mom said rubbing her head thinking. “Do you feel sad for what he did” “No I just feel really angry” Jane said looking up at her mom “He spoilt all my plan leaving a huge flaw" “Jane you have to understand you can't be entirely perfect" her mom said "Actually life can't be perfect" “I remember when you were in high school always striving for perfect grades you would make your self read twice your schedule of if you didn't achieve it no matter how hard I tried to talk you out of it"