Novel & Cerita Novel Imperfect

The bloodlust vanished from the air like it never existed. “Well, at least I am perfect at being flawed…” Ezra sipped in the coffee, making loud slurping noises which was clearly annoying Raven even more. “I am flawlessly imperfect.” He continued in a dreamy tone, like he was reciting the hymn of the universe. “Imperfectum est perfectio. Perfectio est illusionis. Imperfection is perfection and perfection is illusion. So, you are an illusion, Raven.” He pointed his finger at Raven. Ouch. That must have hurt, and it clearly did. I gaped at Raven.

I never so much dreamed about a perfect relationship because I know it’s impossible. The perfect man only exists in books, fictional, unreal, created by imagination. When I met him, I didn’t know he’d dreamed of holding my hand as we slept. I didn’t imagine he’d kiss me softly, whispering how much he loves me. It didn’t cross my mind that someday, the man who just spent one hot night with me, would dream of spending our forever together. Matteo sees himself as a cruel and imperfect person. But for me, perfection is an understatement. Not that I worship him too much. But because I know the extent of his capabilities, and the extent of what he could give for this relationship.

Readers loved the honesty, the vulnerability, the way Riley and Samuel refused to pretend everything was perfect. "Listen to this review," Sarah said when she visited with Lysander. "This book is a love letter to imperfection. Riley Chen doesn't just tell you about falling in love. She tells you about staying in love when it's hard, when you're tired, when life gets in the way. It's beautiful and real and necessary." "That's a good review," Lysander agreed. "It's a great review." Sarah looked at Riley, who was nursing Selene on the couch. "You did it again. Another bestseller."

She ended with a giggle at the thought of that felt funny. Perfection in imperfection or perfection is imperfection?

his last statement made me chulked a bit. I mean, everybody knows how imperfect I am. A woman who literally failed at everything. What is the point of lying just to make me believe he is on my side? “Okay, maybe not everyone is perfect” his voice collided with my thought. Like he could read my mind. “It's not like we have a perfect human anyway, but you are close to being one. You are a woman who does not easily break down. I admire that about you and please keep walking on their necks”

I knew at that moment that I had just crossed my boundary. ////////////////////////////////// Okay, so I have decided to give each chapter a status Frenzy(easy to write) Cranky( not easy) Frenzy but a little Cranky, you know what that is. This is imperfection, the first trilogy.

She pressed her cracked lips together. Disgusting. You're disgusting. She thought to herself. Rowena felt like crying. She wanted to cry. But the tears didn't come. A part of her thought she had no right to cry. There was only an insurmountable amount of self-loathing. Heat coursed through her face and body yet again. She turned off the faucet and moved towards the small shower area. Without undressing, she opened the shower head and stood underneath it. The cool water tapping against her body gave a sense of comfort. Not long after, her black shirt began to hug her body. The sensation wasn't strong enough. Rowena wrapped her weak arms around her torso. She wanted nothing to be embraced, to

My eyebrows are raised and my body turns toward her. "No, how silly of me. My name is Cora Jones, I am the new agent for Model Imperfect." "Did you say, Model Imperfect?" "Yes, that's right...Model Imperfect. We've heard about your cancer and have followed your story for a while. We are looking for a new model to become our it girl. Would you be interested in joining our team?" I haven't started looking into new agencies yet. And somehow they find their way to my doorstep.

Her voice was light and playful because it had to be. Ethan laughed, leaving a kiss on her temple. "Of course, love. You just need more sleep." But sleep wasn't the problem. Reality was. The house, the life, the husband-it was all too perfect. And perfection, she was starting to realize, was its kind of prison. --- The scent of freshly ground coffee and toasted bread filled the kitchen, blending with the crisp morning air. Ethan sat at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper as he always did, a portrait of effortless domesticity. A plate of eggs and fruit waited for Lena, prepared exactly as she liked.