Passionate Drawings の小説・ストーリー

Anthony was pleased and he pulled her closer to him as they tasted the sweetness of their lips. With their bodies burning with passion and desire, Anthony's hand began to wander on her body. Anthony lifted her in his arms and carried her like a queen towards their room. The intensity in their body was so powerful that Anthony just torn her clothes savagely. He was so eager to have her, pressing her under his body. Danielle was not distracted by what he did. She pressed herself closer to him, feeling and touching his bare muscular body. She was drooling with his perfect body. She can sensed the hardness of his manhood below him in between her thighs.

Skye Emerson sits at a wooden table in the Stonebridge High library, her sketchpad open to a half-finished design for the Valentine’s Day fundraiser. One she’s drawing as a sample for those who would be partaking in the drawing competition. She’s focused as her pencil scratches across the page, outlining a real looking living heart entwined with vines, but suddenly, her focus drifts away as it keeps slipping, her head occupied with some thoughts.

Anna was left frozen, her mouth slightly open, onion half-sliced in her hand. The box clenched tightly to my chest, I ran up the stairs, two at a time. I didn’t even know what I was going to draw yet, but the feeling of having a purpose again? Something that wasn’t about sex or war or power? It was everything. Patty Mama is the sweetest! **** Later, in my room, I sat on the rug near the window, sketchpad open, charcoal in hand. I didn’t draw Antonioni. I didn’t draw his empty bed.

His tone was casual, but there was a spark in his eyes that made my chest tighten. We slowed down as the trail curved, the trees thickening around us. I felt a strange mix of nerves and curiosity. “What do you like to draw?” I asked, genuinely intrested “People,” he said, after a pause. “Not just faces. Movements, the way someone carries themselves. Sometimes I try to capture… the way someone feels without them saying anything.” He shrugged, almost as if dismissing it, but I caught the intensity behind the words. “That sounds kind of amazing,” I said softly. I didn’t want to smile too much, but I couldn’t help it. “I wouldn’t know where to start with something like that.”

Tiffany sat in her big office as she sketched freely on a paper, at that moment, she was oblivious to every thing going on around her. All she saw at that moment was herself, the design on her head, the paper on a table, and all we wanted to do is to draw it out and make the world wear the new beautiful design she was creating. It was her passion, her happiness, it is what she loves doing the most and for that reason, she never ran out of idea, even in her saddest moment, she created designs, that is how much she loves what she does.

Every hateful word, every look of disappointment, every odd silence from Sebastian replayed in her mind, a looping agony she couldn’t escape. As her pencil glided over the paper, Petal realized she wasn’t even drawing what she intended. Instead, the shapes morphed into an expression of her pain—a faceless figure hunched over, surrounded by swirling lines that seemed to threaten, suffocate. Her art, usually a source of joy, had become a canvas for her grief.

Passionate. Forever ours.

He came home each afternoon with the focused energy of someone who has spent the day doing something effortful and satisfying, full of observations about Max and Sioned and the progress of a classroom terrarium project that he had taken personal charge of with a seriousness that had apparently impressed his teacher considerably. He still drew every evening. The portfolio was thicker now, his subjects more varied, the classroom appearing as frequently as the garden, new faces alongside the familiar ones, his world expanding page by careful page. He had begun recently to add notes to his drawings, small observations in his developing handwriting that sat beside the figures like captions in a p

Tell me. Chloe carefully unrolled a large sheet of paper on the grass. It showed a big vision board full of drawings, paint colors, and little notes in her nice handwriting. This is my dream gallery, Chloe said with excitement, her cheeks a bit red. A gallery for local artists, a place where anyone can show their art, no matter their background. Michelle sat next to her, looking at the drawings closely. Chloe, this is amazing. I thought maybe... one day, Chloe said softly, when I have enough money, when I feel brave enough.

his face suddenly turned all serious and the little smile on his pink lips flew away. "First show me the girl" "First promise me" he coaxed. "Like father Like son," the old man muttered under his breath. "Ok I promise now show me!" Alex opened the drawer to his left side and took out a picture out of it and handed it to is grandfather. He took the picture from his grandson's hand and eyed it, observingly. "Well dada do you like her," "Yeah I certainly do, she is beautiful but....but she seems quite familiar have we met before," she said with uncertainity.