Perfection Synonym Novels & Stories

He asked rubbing his well shaped nose on Adele cheeks before he moved towards her ear and whispered. “Because you are my fated perfection” he whispered before he looked at her green eyes which turned teary. That’s the first time anyone ever told her words to make her important. Gently Harden took her lips again, this time so slowly but full of wants, Adele gave him back the energy, all the time she wanted so bad to have him it’s here so she let herself free, free from not just her desire but also her life and the world happening around her……

Being semi-famous is annoying sometimes. I also have no desire to make out with Hunter anymore. Hunter is part of my Model Perfect image, we are a package deal. It's unfortunate for me, that Aftershock has a partnership with Model Perfect. We are the 'it couple' and if there is a slip up the partnership is over. Would that be such a bad thing?

"Hasn't everyone, everybody wants to feel love so we label anything we feel as love, we fall in love with the idea of love from fairytales, books, movies hoping for perfection, perfection that we can never have," "Do you really believe there is no such thing a perfection?" "I think it depends on your definition of perfection, your perspective, your point of view and how you see the world," she said taking a sip of her wine slowly before placing it back on the counter. "I think you're perfect," "From what perspective?"

“That boy has made some bad choices in his life, but I’ve been very proud of him these last few months. I never thought I’d see the day that my sons would repair their relationship. You know that’s down to you, don’t you?” He asks warmly, an affectionate twinkle in his eye. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m so tired of getting credit for things that just so happened to occur in my general vicinity.” I complain, slumping back and rubbing my full belly. “Not that I don’t appreciate the compliments… I just… perfection is an impossible thing to live up to… and I am so far from perfect it’s laughable. I don’t want to end up with a reputation that I’m destined to fall short of – I’m only human after all.”

I was surprised to hear her think like that. “What are you saying, Poppy? No one is truly perfect. I'm not even the ideal wife. My husband has his shortcomings too. None of our kids are without their faults. Take Faith, for instance—no matter how kind-hearted he is, I wouldn’t call him perfect. Maybe as a partner, yes, I believe he’ll be a perfect husband for you. But he has his weaknesses too, which means he isn’t perfect either. Every person has their own unique set of flaws, whether they’re physical or mental. That’s what makes us special, Poppy. It’s perfectly okay not to be flawless. Those imperfections help shape our identity. If everyone were perfect, we’d miss out on the chance to le

Dad said while laughing. I laugh too, “So all that you said is just drama to scare her?” “Of Course Baby. How can I live without you mom she’s my life and everything too like Shane to your heart. I just want her to realize that she’s not perfect at all.” “You are my idol Dad! I love you and thank you.” I hugged my dad tightly and he returned the favor and caressed my hair like a child.

He'd stopped mentioning it. Some things were allowed to be imperfect. Some things were allowed to be his. This was a lesson that had taken him longer than he wanted to admit. He was a perfectionist—not in the casual way that people used the word, but in the actual way, the way that meant the gap between what he could imagine and what he could execute was a source of constant low-grade frustration. He had spent years trying to close that gap, trying to make the thing he made match the thing he imagined, trying to eliminate the distance between vision and reality.

she continued, voice barely above the rain, “the only thing I was afraid of was never getting the chance to choose you again.” His chest tightened. “Lisa…!!” She reached for him then, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, not pulling him close….just anchoring herself. “I don’t want perfect,” she said. “I want honest. I want this—whatever this is—messy and real.” Grey rested his forehead against hers, breath mingling, rain blurring the space between them. “You have me,” he said. “No filters. No omissions. Even the parts I hate.”

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

I let my anxiety get the best of me. “You overthink everything too much. We came here to celebrate your internship at Santiago and Associates law firm, right?” She asked, stating the obvious. I nodded at her. “Do you know what that means? Sweetheart, you got into the best law firm in the States! Only one in every ten thousand applicants gets in and you got in. That definitely calls for a celebration!” “But—” “Nope,” she shook her head. “No buts. We've come this far already and we're definitely going to have fun tonight before your big day, okay?”