Jojo Siwa Forehead Novels & Stories

Hypnotic in nature. Sierra Santo is a very beautiful woman, with almost milky skin, despite looking exotic. Her dark hair frames a delicate bone structure, and her eyes, although electrifying blue right now, are almond shaped under straight thick dark brows, so perfectly symmetrical. She has pouty lips, and an ever-present youthful charm that completely warms her to you. A face that says, ‘I can be trusted’ to match the surrounding atmosphere of serene she always carries.

"Ada ni waye ma ma me je ki jiya (Creator, don't let me suffer), O to bi tabi okere ori Mi o fe (whether small or big, my head forbids it), Oshi o dara, Atobiju ma pin de o do Mi (Poverty is bad, most high don't let it be a part of my life), Ti iya nla ba gbeni shonle kekere a bori eni( If one is battling with a big problem, smaller problems would come knocking), Ki lafani ori ti ani ti ko gbeni? (What's the essence of a head that Can't save one?)

Apollo kissed Sienna on the forehead and gave her a hug she hugged him back and kissed his Jaw " Call me when you land ? " ©#KCMmuoe

“They’re paparazzi. Just wait until tomorrow morning, I’m sure our smooch will be the number one hottest topic.” Sierra let out a heavy sigh, pulling away from Ace, and then went back to her original position. She leaned back in her chair and sipped her orange juice gracefully. Her green eyes darted around, making sure no one was secretly taking pictures of her without permission. However, when her green eyes landed on one spot, she furrowed her brow as she looked at two people she instantly recognized. Sierra sharpened her gaze, narrowing her eyes to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

Malakai's hand had just closed around the vibrating phone on the coffee table when the front door burst open with a loud bang. Sierra stumbled inside. She was crying hard, choking on gasping sobs that made her whole body shake. Her uniform was torn at the shoulder, one sleeve hanging loose. A dark bruise was already blooming across her cheekbone, and fresh blood ran in a thin, steady stream from a gash above her left temple, dripping onto the collar of her shirt and down the side of her neck.

(SOFIA QUISPE’S POINT OF VIEW) "Is the rear flank holding, Jax? I can feel the vibration of the ice shifting under the heavy trailers," Sofia asked, her voice carrying over the roar of the wind without her having to raise it. She stood on the roof of the moving transport, her silver hair whipping around her face like a banner of moonlight. Her sapphire skin was the only source of vibrant color in a world of gray and white.

His friend was waving at him from the window. “What the?!” Leon couldn’t hide his smile also. Running to open the window and to his surprise, there’s also Sierra – hanging onto the vines around the wall. She was definitely unhappy to be on that position for too long. After Gray jumped into his room, Leon casually extended his hand for Sierra. She snorted and entered the room by herself. “Leon, what happened with your forehead?” Gray whispered worriedly. Sierra also noticed the bandage on the kid’s forehead, judging quietly. “Um, I fell down from the stairs. But I’m okay now,”

' This could only mean one thing, Sia has regained her memories and lost her soul in the process' ################

He said. “Is something wrong?” Sierra asked, a concerned look on her face as she dropped her question. Sierra was averagely built, with distinct features. A slightly square-shaped face sat on her neck. Most girls either had oval or round faces, he hadn’t quite seen any girl with such unique facial features. Sweet almond shaped blue eyes with eyeshadow that enhanced the already vibrant qualities, flat small nose, he wondered if she was able to breathe through those tiny nostrils, her lips majestic in every sense of the word, sat perfectly on her face. Her Cupid’s bow peaked, visibly alluring. Damn! Everything was flawless, he thought to himself.

“You’ve been through a lot. Let’s take a look at that head of yours.” Osborne moves aside as the doctor pulls out gloves and a small kit. Sienna sits rigidly while he unwraps the gauze around her head. She winces as the cool air hits her scalp, her fingers digging into the blanket. “Everything looks clean,” the doctor says as he examines the area. “The stitches are holding well, and the swelling has gone down significantly.” Sienna glances at the mirror across the room, catching a glimpse of her reflection. Her head is shaved, a latticework of stitches crisscrossing her scalp like jagged seams. The sight stirs grief within her. She quickly averts her gaze.