Relaxed Aesthetic Novels & Stories

The room buzzed with energy, in pursuit of perfection. Finally, after several iterations and countless adjustments, Lena held up the revised sketch, brimming with confidence. Stephanie's eyes widened, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. There, on the paper, was the embodiment of her desires a dress that seamlessly blended elegance, allure, and individuality. Stephanie's nod of approval spoke volumes as she affirmed, "That's exactly what I want, Lena. You've captured my description perfectly."

Impatiently, he kicked the hospital bed and snapped, "Stop pretending. It's just a little anesthetic. Do you need to sleep for so long? Get up. I made you get cosmetic surgery for your own good. Don't act like it's such a huge grievance." Of course, I couldn't answer him. I was dead. Livid, James lifted the sheet and kicked me off the bed and to the ground. "Stop playing dead! Have you learned your lesson or not?" The sheet covering me fell to the ground as well, revealing my ashen face. It wasn't a complexion that a living human could have. I hadn't had the chance to heal after the cosmetic surgery, so my face was still swollen and ruddy. James frowned when he saw me. "You're still so ugly.

Bella, irritated, slammed the mouse down. Ugh, this client was a nightmare—the wine promotion poster had been revised five times and still wasn't satisfactory! The client, a rather attractive woman, always showed up overdressed and smelling like she'd bathed in perfume, enough to make anyone sneeze. After several interactions, Bella’s four-word summary for her was—beauty without brains, totally clueless about design. But, the customer is always right, even if their taste is all wrong.

This woman loved things to be done by her way and clearly, I wouldn't get anything my way if she was to come by near me. One thing I couldn't deny was that she looked absolutely gorgeous. The red gown was tight fitted on her waist and had a slit down her thigh showing her roses tattoos on her leg as well as some ankle tattoo. Her hair was curled slightly showing bouncy curls. Altogether, her whole outfit made her look like the sexiest woman I have laid my eyes on. She had a smirk playing on her lips taunting me about my sadistic and pathetic attempt to make her jealous. It went down the drain. The woman that I was supposedly flirting with was smiling happily like a new fond baby looking at i

"Look at this font instead. Do we prefer the minimalist serif or the bold modern for The Era Society cover page?" ​"Minimalist serif," Bianca answered from her desk, her eyes fiercely focused as she aligned our core budget spreadsheets. She hadn't looked up in two hours. "It keeps the high-society aesthetic. If we're pitching to the student administration board tomorrow afternoon, the presentation needs to look like a luxury lookbook, not a standard campus flyer." ​I forced a tight smile, dragging my eyes away from my silent phone. "Right. Cream, espresso, gold. We present a lifestyle, not a club."

Knox was practically vibrating in his chair. “And ah’ll start pullin’ thegither some reference images fer the ‘stormy’ aesthetic. We need mood boards fer the dark lightin’ an aw. It is a whole new chapter.” He glanced at Harper with a grin. “Ye’re stayin’ on the project, right? Ah dinnae want anybody else layin’ their hands on these notes.” Marius looked up from his paper, catching her eye. “She is staying right where she is, Knox. She is too valuable to lose now.” She smiled lightly. “I am not going anywhere,” she said proudly. “Though we should discuss the type of models to use. Knox, you said you wanted curvy, natural beauty models…” Knox’s eyes lit up again, his enthusiasm seemingly bott

Their nervousness was still obvious, but I smiled gently. “Okay. New plan” I announced and everyone looked at me uncertainly. “We’re changing the direction completely,” I said. “What kind of direction?”The production assistant asked, as he frowned slightly. “The real one,” I replied and stepped closer to the models. “No more stiff posing, no pretending to be smaller, no uncomfortable angles,” I said. Some of the tension eased slightly and I smiled wider. “I want you comfortable,” I said and one model raised her hand awkwardly. “Like… natural?” she asked.

Stone had kept his word, but the result was almost more terrifying than if they had just worn their full leather gear. Outside the large glass windows of the bakery, parked directly across the street in the bright morning sun, were Jax and Relax. The heavy, customized choppers they rode were impossible to hide, the chrome pipes glinting fiercely against the asphalt. Instead of their full black leather cuts, they were wearing plain, heavy black t-shirts and dark denim jeans. But a plain t-shirt did absolutely nothing to hide the massive, terrifying reality of who they were. The black fabric stretched dangerously tight across Jax’s massive, scarred shoulders and broad chest, his thick arms com

that way. "Speaking of difficult clients," I found a pack of crackers and tore it open. "I once had one who wanted me to design a poster on the theme 'An Elegant Death.' I did twenty-seven revisions. In the end, he said what he actually wanted was 'The Elegance of Death.'" I took a bite of a cracker. "Is there even a difference?" "Yes," Kael actually answered seriously. "An elegant death is the process. The elegance of death is the result."

Wide-leg trousers with a high waist and structured pleating, sophisticated and timeless, and a coat, long and dramatic with a standing collar, the kind of piece that made a statement just by existing. "These," I said, pulling out the five sketches and laying them in a row. "These feel right." Julian looked at each one carefully, his expression thoughtful. "They work together," he observed. "Same energy, same aesthetic." "Strength without softness," I said, studying them. "That's what I want to create. Clothes that don't apologize." Julian's eyes met mine and I saw something that looked almost like pride in them. "Then that's what you'll create," he said simply.