Perfection Books Novels & Stories

When I opened it, a lovely fragrance wafted out, filling the room like a gentle summer breeze, inviting me to take a deep breath. “Mmm…” I murmured, enjoying the delightful scent that reminded me of my mother’s sweet and soft perfume. Eager to learn more, I unfolded the note inside. “Have you ever wondered if you are really the best version of yourself? If you believe you are perfect just as you are, then you can simply toss this letter aside.” I paused, frowning. “I don’t know anyone who thinks they’re perfect.” With my curiosity piqued, I continued to read the note.

she replied, “I can’t believe we are breaking history, a maid is marrying her boss.” “I don’t think anybody would believe that for you look nothing like a maid.” “But I was a maid.” “Was, but not anymore, you are my imperfect perfection,” he replied that she could only smile and wondered how can they be a perfection that is imperfect? Not getting her answer, she smiled more pronounced and listened to the priest, today is a very big day to her, a day she had looked forward to all her life with the man beside her. And she knew that just as his words ‘imperfect perfection’ confused her, so would their love confuse anyone who tries to ruin them.

Ivy allowed herself into the shop, her features lighting up with a smile as she inhaled the fragrant aroma that filled the air. Her stomach growled and she chuckled. She believed that was only a signal to finish what she had started by going there. As she walked to the counter to place her order, she noticed that there were very few people in the shop, unlike the last time she had been there and the soft orchestra music that played in the background was perfect, setting the right mood- a cheerful and soothing ambiance, perfect for her morning.

I also noticed how the books were in four stacks and columns. Everything in the room was pristine without a speck of dust or even a misplaced item. It was almost too perfect, too cold and I found myself wondering again- what drove Nicholas to such extreme order and precision? Is this mere perfect or is this obsession? A particular book on the top shelf caught my eye and I moved toward it, standing on tiptoes to reach it but my fingers barely graded the shelf. I frowned and tried again, stretching higher and when I still couldn't reach it, I let out a huff. I'm not event that short.

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.

where do you hear such silly things, my Queen ". " A human being can never be perfect at everything. Even if it's me. I am never perfect at anything. If a person becomes perfect in everything then we don't need each other. You can do everything by yourself. We human being have one talent or one field we are good at. we just have to ty to know about our talent that's it". Hello guys how are you all. I hope you all are fine and healthy. If you like to read more then pls add the book to the library and pal do comments and write your reviews and don't forget to vote.

The stars shine. And somewhere inside the house, a child sleeps, and two women watch over her. Not because they're afraid. Because they've learned that love is not about perfection. It's about presence. And they're finally present. End of Chapter 172

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Series Order: Book 1- Loathing Logan Book 2- Still In Love With You Book 3- Loving Your Imperfections Mia I looked at myself in the body-length mirror in our room and sighed. I wasn't much into dressing up completely, so I wore a plain white tank top with a short ruffled black skirt and my high-top black converse. I wasn't much into make-up because then I'd forget and rub my face or something, smearing it like crazy, so I wore only a bit of mascara, and that was it.

That must be normal for half of the percent of mothers because for the rest, they claim that the other part is insane for classifying themselves as perfect mothers. I confess to the girls that it's my first time, that I'm not used to going to these places. I even thought the day I entered one that it was hell itself because peace or the sound of cars cannot be bought with music that makes your skin crawl, that sends an electric shock through your body until it reaches your heart, making it beat uncontrollably. It's a unique feeling. The two of them laugh and tell me it's normal, that we always have a first time, but everything has its pros and cons.