Mint Stained Shirt Novels & Stories

Kaira said handing me an outfit that was neatly folded. "What's that?" I asked taking it. "it's a chitenge shirt. Mel will be wearing the same thing. In a dress ofcourse," I unfolded it and it was a light blue traditional shirt with white designs that looked like flowers and also had wavy white lines in between the flowers. There were some specks of orange in between the white lines. "Wear it and let's see if it fits!" I wore it and it fit me like it was just made for me,

"Huh?" "I mean, is there any theme for the get-together?" "No. There's nothing like that." "Do you want to dress up in any colour you wish?" I stood up from the bed and said, "Actually, I'm thinking about something in light shades" "Light colour… what about this one?" She showed me a sky blue shirt and denim pants. "Nah! We'll go with… pink." She showed me a pink crop top which Mr Martinez bought me last weekend when we went to the beach.

I would always watch from afar, adoring how he looked in it, wishing I could be the one to take it off him. I walk over to the mirror and admire the shirt on me in the mirror. It’s a gorgeous royal blue collared long-sleeve button-down with the face of a tiger printed on it in rich gold and shades of turquoise, pink and purple. I only keep the middle button done up and let the shirt hang off my body. It’s very large on me, but worth it. I bring the shirt up to my nose and inhale the rich smell of Sebastian’s aftershave as it continues to cling to the fabric. I turn as I hear Sebastian enter the bedroom in nothing but grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips, those seductive V-shaped muscles

I throw on my jacket, and Susan pops a question. "What shade of grey is that, though?" I am on the verge of replying to the famous movie fifty shades of grey, but I stop myself. "This is mink. It goes well with green and black." "I honestly don't know how you do it, girl," Susan mutters. Her eyes are coated with slight admiration.

Is it often passerbys would come in lacking foot coverage? “No shirt. No service.” She nodded at the back wall where there was a handful of shirts hanging on a rusted old Z rack. He found one men’s large it was the only one that wasn’t pink. The shirt was black and had the shape of North Carolina on it and it read Come on and Raise up. Well then. This is it I guess. He turned to the clerk grinned and put the shirt on. It was a tad snug on his biceps and he felt ridiculous. He looked in the reflection of the drink cooler and he looked like something from a wrestling poster.

There was an air of sophistication here. “Do you have a color preference, Sir Dante?” Maunish asked me. “Darker colors if possible, but anything will work.” I was completely out of my element here. Fucking hell. Was this what Ziyah felt like when she was here on her own? Maunish inclined his head and went over to one of the racks, searching through the selections. He brought over a dark navy long-sleeved tunic that had black lacing up the chest and sleeves. It was paired with black pants.

They’re clearly Mikhail’s, much too big for me, but they’ll have to do. Pulling out a shirt, I slip it on, feeling a sense of relief as it covers me. The fabric smells like him, a comforting mix of cedarwood and his own unique smell that makes me feel safer. I find a pair of sweatpants but keep them back in the closet because they are too big for me. So, just the shirt will do for now. Once dressed, I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror. The mark on my neck stands out against my olive skin, a stark reminder of the bond we now share. I brush my fingers over it again, feeling a strange mix of pride and uncertainty.

"And I need a clean bandage to tie the fresh moss down. Your tunic is completely ruined. There is no clean cloth left on it." Kaelen closed his eyes, his jaw tight. "Then we use the moss without the binding. It is fine." "No, it will fall out if you move," I insisted. I looked down at my own body. The thin, dirty linen shirt I was wearing was practically falling apart. It was stained with dirt from the silver mines and dried blood from my torn shoulder stitches, but the bottom hem was still relatively clean. Without thinking, I reached down and grabbed the bottom edge of my shirt. I gritted my teeth against the sharp, pulling pain in my bad shoulder, and I pulled the shirt over my head.

She was vaguely aware of Shane pressing buttons on a panel just outside the shower before steam and jets of water obscured her vision. She pushed wet strands of hair off her face and squinted to see her tormentor. Mia whimpered at the sight of him unbuttoning the purple silk shirt he’d worn. His pants joined the garment a moment later, and she turned her head, driven to search for a weapon and to avoid the sight of his body. What she had glimpsed told her he was powerfully built, with thick

My brain is just as confident about his cold personality as it is about my own territory laws. Franklin Sterling POV "Thank you for granting our team the use of this ancient fortress, Master Jupiter," I say, stepping out of the stone dressing room after wiping the makeup from my skin. I am wearing nothing but a plain white cotton shirt and a pair of faded wildland denim trousers. Usually, those light, pale fabrics make a wolf's frame look thick and heavy, but the denim clings tightly to my lean waist and accentuates my long legs in a way that makes the surrounding guards gawk silently.