Light Pink Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Josh was physically present, but his spirit was miles away, anchored in a hospital ward where the air smelled of antiseptic and broken promises, daydreaming of a curvy-petite, doe eyed girl,who always radiate an air of innocence. “Pink, Mrs. Coker. Not blush, not rose, but Williams Pink,” Ada said, her voice sharp and ringing with a frantic kind of authority. She tapped a finger rhythmically on a fabric swatch. “It needs to pop against the white. I want the ballroom to look like a cloud that’s caught the sunrise. A fairytale, but one where everyone knows who the royalty is.” Mrs. Coker nodded, her pen flying across a leather-bound journal. “A touch of pink for the draping, perhaps? And we ca

My mouth watered as I think of the tastes of the came and then the next thing I knew, I stood up and picked my keys, telling Mayi about my whereabouts and left. The pink, girly board from the top of the small coffee shop made me look like an outsider. It is a combination of baby pink and white background with a darker shade of pink saying "Caroline Sweetcups", the whole room is almost made up of mirror, and as soon as I entered inside, what welcomed me was pink tables and white chairs. The walls are also white, with its foundation in pink. I think the owner is a girl and her favorite colors are these. Although it looks so pleasing, it wouldn't be as popular with the boys. Maybe the market th

I suggested, letting go of his hand on our approach to the counter. The parlor was small and decorated in soft pink and baby blue. There were only a few booths, decorated in the same colors, along with some sunshine yellow and white swirls. There was a menu painted in mint green on a blackboard behind the counter with several depictions of cones in neon lights mounted on the walls.

Every fucking time that passes, Isabelle remains number one more than before. The interior designer arrives an hour later. Her name is Clara, sharp-eyed, and very attentive. “I want this done right,” I tell her immediately. “No compromises.” She nods, pen poised. “Tell me everything.” I walk through the space slowly, hands in my pockets, the vision unfolding clearly in my mind. “It needs to be pink,” I begin. “Not childish or the loud kind of pink. It should be soft, curated pink, elegant, and warm.”

A figure jerked up from the bed, she sat up and sighed tiredly. ‘I’m tired of this nightmare, I can’t even see their faces’ she muttered digging her hands into her natural ash hair, she stared at the direction of the window. ‘It still dark’. ‘I just need more sleeping pills and I’ll be fine; she said to herself standing up from her bed, she then walked to where the switch was and switched on the lights, the lights from the chandelier illuminated the room. It was a room painted with royal blue with gold stars on her wall; her bed was wide enough for six people to sleep in, in short the room screamed luxury. At a corner in her room there was two shelves filled with books and a table with a cha

“In that case, I’ll do the same. I’ll give you anything you ask.” He squinted his eyes, raising his eyebrows as his lips curved into a naughty smile. “Anything?” I rolled my eyes at him. “Except for the sex, Red.” He guffawed, filling the bedroom with his beautiful laughter. “Whew!” He muttered when he finally stopped laughing. “You’re truly different, Aya. I don’t do sex; I make love and make my woman very happy and satisfied.” “What’s your favorite color?” I asked, changing the topic and thinking of designing the cake I had in mind with his favorite color.

"Have you ever taken such things?" She looked eager. "I have enjoyed party drugs a few times, but never the fabled Pink. It has quite a reputation for making things better, both gentle and significant. But it is impossible to find for love or money, I heard you have to be a friend of the supplier?" Sam pointed out the marks on the pill, a zero on one side and an off-center lightning bolt on the other. The pink color was also unique, and she pointed out there was a thin white layer in the center in the pill. "These are the marks of the real thing. A few people tried to make imitations but the color is impossible to match. They wound up out in the desert."

Inside, I wanted soft lemon yellow and gentle pink tones that represented Lumina Bloom perfectly: bright, feminine, hopeful, and full of light. “Make sure the lemon yellow is soft, not too bright,” I called up to one of the painters on the ladder. “And blend the pink accents near the display areas. I want it to feel warm and inviting the moment customers walk in.” Cassey stood beside me with a clipboard, looking every bit the professional manager she had become. She had stepped up massively since the trade fair, handling orders, logistics, and now helping oversee this massive new project. I trusted her completely. “This is coming together so well,” she said, smiling at me. “The colors are go

Estel POV “It’s pink,” Ada, my wolf, grumbled. When I pulled into the circle drive, we could see into the giant windows along the front of the once forgotten resort hotel. It was atrocious. It looked like the inside of a pepto bismol bottle. It was painfully pink. Who the hell paints walls this color? Not even an accent wall, but all the walls, from floor to ceiling. And then the ceiling’s dirty glass skylights were reflecting the offensive pink back, the sunlight sneaking in giving the higher part of the wall the image of being scribbled over with a highlighter.

She set her painting on the easel with a dramatic flourish, stepping back like she’d just unveiled a masterpiece. It was… a pink flower. A single, delicate, annoyingly perfect pink flower, sitting in the middle of a white canvas. Soft, pastel petals, a golden center, and a few green leaves curling daintily at the edges. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She just made me hate the color pink. Miss Lia beamed, clapping in excitement. “Lovely, Janice! Tell us about your inspiration.” Janice flipped her hair again, her eyes never leaving mine. “Well,” she started, clearing her throat “I wanted to paint elegance. Something simple, yet sophisticated. You know, not messy.”