Pure Perfection Novels & Stories

I breathed deep, steady, and let every truth I carried rise up bright and warm inside me. "You were born when people began to believe that power must be pure. That strength must be perfect. That anything hard or painful or dark must be cut away or locked out. But they were wrong. Perfection is not wholeness. Wholeness means carrying everything — light and dark, joy and sorrow, strength and weakness — and choosing good anyway. Choosing love anyway. Choosing to build anyway." I lifted my hands, palms open toward the dark mass, not pushing or pulling, only offering.

said the student, blushing. “Say what you want?” “I want you.” The student pulling Louis’s black tie, which made their faces closer. Louis’s red iris looked so dazzling in her eyes. The gemstone that shimmering attracts the victim to drown in a mirage of its pseudo-beauty. Without realizing it, the devil will suck the victim’s soul until nothing remains. Louis’s hands pulled the blonde girl’s waist closer to him. The man was still staring at his prey. He smiled, hearing the girl’s heavy breath.

Amanda made a monologue while shaking her head. *** "I've warned you, someday you will get karma of what you've done. So, why are you begging me again?" "Look, this is a price you get for what you did!" The man returned to sipping the green tea that the waiter had just served. *** A perfect couple is creating by two imperfect people who don't want to give up building a relationship. ~BebbyShin~

Mary always took everything……everything she owned was supposed to be hers, not Mary’s. So no……she wasn't wrong. She was only taking what belonged to her. She quickly called herself back and closed her eyes, pretending to shake in orgasm as she heard Alfred’s early grunts. He was done already……might as well not have started in the first place. She watched as he strolled to the bathroom and began to shower. Her phone beeped. It was her mother. “How is it going?” A message popped up “Perfect……just perfect” she replied and immediately deleted the message.

One more chapter to go. Dear Reader, As I turn the final page of Perfect Love, I want to express how much your journey alongside these characters has meant to me. This story was about exploring the idea of love in its purest form, amidst the imperfections of life. I hope it inspired you to believe in the beauty of love, even when it’s not perfect. Writing this book allowed me to delve into the intricacies of human emotions, and I’m grateful for every moment you spent with these characters.

Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ For everything in this journey of life we are on, there is a right wing and a left wing: for the wing of love there is anger; for the wing of destiny there is fear; for the wing of pain there is healing; for the wing of hurt there is forgiveness; for the wing of pride there is humility; for the wing of giving there is taking; for the wing of tears there is joy; for the wing of rejection there is acceptance; for the wing of judgment there is grace; for the wing of honor there is shame; for the wing of letting go there is the wing of keeping. We can only fly with two wings and two wings can only stay in the air if there is a balance. Two beautiful wings is perfection. There is a

SKYLA The lights were too bright, and the incessant chatters were too loud. Chandeliers shaped like crystal wings hung above the ballroom, scattering shards of brilliance across champagne glasses and expensive gowns and jewelleries. Music hummed like electric current beneath polite laughter and false promises. It was beautiful, grand, elegant, and utterly suffocating. Just exactly how Carl wanted it.

[note to QI: above line says perfume too, so I kept this neutral/vague by changing to liquid] She then glared at me and asked, "Did you tamper with the perfume, Helena?" I shrugged my shoulders, looking completely innocent. "What on earth are you talking about? Why don't I understand what you're getting at, Queenie? Is it possible that your perfume has simply gone bad?" Queenie asked through gritted teeth, "Didn't you realize that the person who uses this perfume can't actually smell it? How did the perfume I gave you end up on my vanity, Helena?"

Please believe that if I had a choice, I would trade everything for the chance to watch you grow up. Love, Mommy.] Candice cried all night long. The next day, she went to Kathleen's grave and, with genuine sincerity for the first time, said, "Mom, I'm sorry." However, some words came too late, and some love was understood far too late. Just like Kathleen had once predicted—everyone got what they wanted: a perfect and well-behaved Kathleen. However, the price they had to pay was to lose her forever.

It's our fifth year together, and I accompany my fiance, Theo Montague, to see the aurora he has always yearned to see. Fortune favors us that night as vivid green lights stretch across the snow-covered plain. He wraps his arms around me from behind and suddenly murmurs, "It's beautiful. Too bad we're still one step short of perfect." I freeze for a moment and ask him what we're missing. He doesn't answer, and I don't press him, either. After all, I've heard this phrase far too many times. When I go to great lengths to get him the out-of-print book he has his sights on for ages, he sighs. "We're still one step short of perfect." When we move into our beautifully furnished house and f