Platinum Blonde With Dark Underneath Novels & Stories

When their eyes met, the blonde killer gave Eugene a very attractive smile. The sunlight coming through the window reflected off his magnificent blonde hair, making it sparkle as if golden dust had been sprinkled. His unblemished white skin was like porcelain, and his handsome and beautiful features took one's breath away several times more than the memory from last night. And his blue eyes. Those deep blue eyes that seemed to pull you in just by looking at them briefly had such a clear and intense blue color that all the blue eyes Eugene had seen before seemed like rotten fish eyes in comparison.

I muttered under my breath, eyes flicking toward the big, sleek fridge like it might answer me. Two men. Both dangerous. Both quiet in different ways. And neither of them acting like normal employers. I mean — who pays ten grand in one go just for cooking pasta and cutting vegetables? I shook my head, chewing my bottom lip. And then there was the other thing. Domenico. Always in those dark, expensive shades, even inside the house where the light was soft and golden. Who does that? Movie stars? Maybe. Men with secrets? Definitely. And the way he moved…

One of them was the daughter of an Alpha who was even willing to join the pack warrior training to get noticed by him. All of them who want him are beautiful and have deep feelings for him. It’s not like I don’t find myself beautiful, but when you know there are other capable women fighting for his love, you get a little insecure. But Bronze made it clear that he only wanted me. Unlike those pretty girls, my features are rather odd. Especially my hair. I don’t have raven black, brown or blonde hair. I have dark blue hair. Bronze says he loves my rare hair color and calls me Blue. I love that because growing up with a rare hair color, I always felt like the odd one out.

I opened the door. Sola Venn. Platinum hair worn loose around her shoulders. Porcelain skin maintained at the specific level of perfection that required significant money and time and the absence of anything as disruptive as a real life. Icy blue eyes that moved over me once in the way you look at a room when you enter it — checking for the things that matter, deciding what to dismiss. She was more beautiful than I expected. I had spent years knowing she existed and I had built a version of her in my mind that I could manage. The real version was harder to manage.

He didn't even glance at the collar. "The hair, Marcus." I held it up under the lamp. It caught the light and went almost white-gold, and I remember thinking, dumbly, that it was actually kind of pretty, the colour, and hating myself for noticing that. "It's blonde. I'm not blonde. I've never been blonde." "Oh my god, are we doing this right now?" He turned away into the bathroom and ran the tap. "It's probably from the dry cleaners. Or that Uber back from the office, those drivers never vacuum."

The smell of change. She applied the black paste ruthlessly, covering the platinum blonde strands that Lysander loved so much. *("You look like an angel, Vee," he used to say. But angels were made to be sacrificed.)* She watched the dye turn the water in the sink dark, like ink, like oil, like the night sky. Thirty minutes later, she rinsed it out. She dried her hair, the dark strands falling around her face like a shadow. It sharpened her features. It made her skin look like porcelain, her heterochromatic eyes—one icy blue, one warm hazel—pop with startling intensity.

I try to dismiss it, hoping he won't see through it. Blake leans closer to the glass and his lips move as he reads the tiny print on the paper under the pearl. He shakes his head. "It's rose gold." Is it? I lean in closer and take a closer look. It is. A really beautiful shade of rose gold. I'm normally a fan of silver or platinum, maybe white gold but I've recently started liking rose gold, though I'm very picky over the actual color. Yeah, I know. It probably makes me look high maintenance but I think there are things that I'm allowed to be picky about.

It was silver-looking in some parts and darker in others. “It’s a mix of white gold and platinum.” “This part,” I said, pointing to it. “Seems almost black.” “It’s black platinum.” I raised an eyebrow. “Vampire thing.” “I’m starting to notice you have a lot of little vampire things.” He sat on the bench beside me. “So, do you like it?” “Are you kidding? I love it.” I replied, putting my hands on either side of his face, and bringing his lips to mine.

I gave him a small smile. The heavy double doors were thrown open and in walked a woman with blonde hair that was sleeked back into the perfect bun. She was wearing a black dress that trailed behind her like smoke. The colour against her pale skin was so contrasting yet it suited her perfectly, the giant ruby on her neck stood out.

“I’m fine Ale. I’m just going to touch up and we can head back.” “Umm, are you sure about that? Because your hair is almost white, and you’re glowing. Like a Fucking beacon.” Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t believe my eyes. My once updo is now down and in loose wave. The crazy thing is that I’m naturally a brunette, but way hair is now platinum, no scratch that is white LITERALLY, with a glowing light. “What the actual fuck?”