Novel & Cerita Perfectionist Book

"Wake me up later if you want to sleep. I'll help you move you to the bed." Angel nodded, then she moved her wheelchair back to the table. Her fingers began to type on the laptop keyboard nimbly. Angel wanted to finish this book as soon as possible no matter what. At least before she died, she wanted to bring out another book. The thought that this would be her last book made Angel even more determined that everything she wrote had to be perfect.

Why does everything have to be so hard when I finally take the matters into my own hands? I reach the apartment in 15 minutes and as soon as I step foot in my bedroom I break down. I hate myself for coming to New York, I hate myself for befriending Grecia, I hate myself for every single decision that I had taken, heck I hate myself for being born now. It is just too much to go through in just one year of life.

It was silent now, aside from my footsteps, but I still could imagine just how magical it felt when the piano at the center of the room was being played. I kept searching the library; none of the titles stood out to me so I gave up and grabbed the book that was sitting in a cozy-looking chair. I plopped myself down and flipped through the first few pages. My eyebrows furrowed as I closed the book and reread the title. "The Origin of Shifters?" I murmured. This book should be thousands of pages long with obnoxiously dense material, but the one in my hands was maybe a hundred pages and full of hand-drawn pictures.

And she did all, with the help of the man who had fallen in love with her. I couldn't wait to get home and start reading it, so I opened it up and began. The book somehow... seemed to resonate with me, well, for the most part. My dad was awesome, and I love him, but I get Isabella. She struggles to find the good in things and doubts her every move because she is yet to learn to trust and love herself. The more I read the first pages, the more I forgot everything around me, zoning out and delving into the book.

He was so arrogant! "Have you ever considered that maybe you overestimate your abilities? I need something stronger than beer to put up with this." I groaned in frustration. A mischievous smile appeared on one side of his mouth. "What are you thinking?" "You said something stronger..." "Stop it. You're really a pervert." "Whiskey... that's an acceptable answer since you want to play the Puritan." "Puritan? Is that what you call women who reject you?" "This game has just begun, and soon it will be you begging me to touch you."

‘‘I have always hated perfect, my father is a perfectionist and I have never lived up to his perfectionist dreams, his versions of good and bad, right or wrong, how you should do your hair, how you should dress up and button up your sleeves, hold the napkin and fork on the table,’’ He stopped to look at me, to gauge my reactions before deciding to continue. ‘‘I have always wanted real, unlike him, real has been my standard, because people pretend to be perfect all the time, saints suffer and pretend to be perfect, in the end they revel in their self-righteousness and self-destruct. So, to be real is another flex, just being unique. If she had done that, been open with me about the pregnancy,

Chimamanda couldn't take it any longer, so she took a sick leave and went home early. She hated looking soft or vunerable to people and it pisses her off when someone tries to pity her. She cursed herself for being so nervous and leaving work early. "It's just a date Chimamanda and Ryan, is like every normal guy you go on a date with, everything is going to end tonight after a make-out session. Stop being a weak girl, be a strong woman, you can do it". She chided herself on her way home from work. When she got home, she had her bath, changed into something comfy, ate lunch and settled down to review some paperwork from the office before the time for her date.

This may be the decision I will regret, but I know to myself that this is what my country deserves. A rightful relationship, a rightful marriage. A true born princess, and a true born prince. I don’t exactly hate Thomas, it’s just that I didn’t really think of him as my partner not until now. He’s smart, brave, and decent, much like a perfect prince, but he has an attitude. An attitude that he doesn’t show to other people except me and Althea. I found him sitting by the bench beside a fountain, so I slowly approached him. Before I went to the garden, I had my maids retouch my face and lessen the puffiness of my eyes.

I look at my side and let out a deep sigh. "I hope it won't offend you, Sir, but I used to hate how she overthink every single thing and keep it all by herself as if no one is beside her to talk about it too, I don't like how she got easily sleep anywhere, biting her fingernails so badly that she got tiny cuts around it, I hate whenever she deprived herself just to keep her stup*d diet plan, and I hate it when she got the attention of other guys in the campus, effortlessly." I felt ashamed as I heard them both laughing as I actually said those directly.

But it was gone before I could place it. “You’ll adjust,” he said finally, turning back to the window. “Sure.” I should’ve left then, but I didn’t. Something kept me rooted in place, staring at the man who seemed so untouchable yet so completely alone. “You know,” I said softly, “you don’t have to keep everything perfect all the time.” He looked at me then, eyes like blue ice under city lights. “Perfection is control, Sophia. And control is necessary.” “Even in your own home?”