Obsession With Beauty Novels & Stories

Angioletto's Pov It is considered a deformity to be fixated on a particular person or object. It is a deformity to be narrow minded. It is a deformity to only find psychological fulfillment from just one person. My therapist had so many words to describe my obsessive tendencies. But right now, all I want is to live with that deformity for the rest of my life. My new obsession. A beauty to behold. From the moment I set eyes on her, from dusk to dawn, every day since I’ve had her under my care, she has been imprinted in my DNA.

UNKNOWN Smack..."If I can't have her, then no other person will get her." Obsession is misunderstood by most people; some think it’s chaotic. Messy. Uncontrolled. It’s not. Not when it’s done right. When it’s real and it’s precise. Careful. Patient. It watches. Learns. Waits and most importantly It chooses.

And that attraction was lethal making him want her more and more each and every time when she would come infront him. For some odd reason, that girl was becoming an unhealthy obsession for him.

another man's arms. The days go by, and he continues to observe her through the security camera, I would like that, like when I first arrived at the company, she would make the slightest mistake, but now she does her job perfectly, she has no reason to attract his attention, He only dedicates himself to observing her through the monitor on his screen. One day he feels that he must follow her and provoke an apparently "chance" encounter, he could not bear the mere idea of ​​having her close and not being able to touch her, not being able to caress her, not being able to make her his, his obsession and his desire for her, were a feeling that with the passing of the days didn't even let him fal

"Oh… yeah, I don't like it." "Why?" "It looks like puke or something gross." I said the same thing to her. "No, it doesn't." She puckered her forehead, "it's beautiful, expensive and would definitely suit me. I'm going to be the talk of the Town if I wear it. "Talk of the town? Is that really what you care about?" "Yes, of course. What should I care about then?" She looked at me in befuddlement like I was the one saying weird things.

However, in this moment of self-admiration, a realization dawns upon her—society often expects women to rely on artificial beauty products to enhance their appearance, both for their own satisfaction and to please others. Contemplating the significance of this realization, Nora ponders the pressure placed on women to conform to certain beauty standards. She questions the need for these fake beauty products and the societal expectations that surround them. Deep within, she yearns for a world where women can embrace their natural beauty without feeling compelled to rely on external enhancements.

He was indifferent as he glanced at her and said mildly, "Ms. Linton, are you short on boyfriends?" "Nope, but I'm free to show off my beauty." Her tone was indifferent as usual. Upon hearing this, his lips curled into a faint smile. "You have to be careful if you're looking for hot guys. They have to be at least as good as me or they wouldn't suit you." She suddenly couldn't find the words. On what grounds could he consider himself the standard? She was unhappy, so she said, "Beauty is subjective. Mr. Gray, you only look mediocre to me."

She gave him a hard gaze, "In your dreams, Aleksandr. You asked me this before too and I also told you, you are my obsession. And I hate it the way it's making me look in front of my family. Everyone thinks I am in love with you!" He chuckled with amusing features. "And that's troubling you. Because now your family thinks you are in love with me." "Stop laughing." She gritted out. Aleksandr neared her face and nodded. "Do you know what obsession means, Tigritsa?" He asked her, his eyes gleamed as He spoke. "Obsession is when you have many beautiful ladies at your beck and call. Yet you are not interested in them. You only want the woman who refuses to let you come near her. Obsession is when

"And you really look like someone who likes dark lyrics.” I gave an innocent smile, hiding in the background any characteristic of that little monster that lurking underneath.” "What's so dark about a woman who says she's crazy about someone?” "Nothing that is good comes from someone who is obsessed with someone else," he scored wisely. "You're right," I replied, arching an eyebrow. "Obsession always ends in a tragic way.