Rosalina Drawing Novels & Stories

The following week moved by in a haze of routines. Days melted into nights in the quiet mansion, and Rosalina slowly adapted to the luxury and calm. Damon had returned to work, but every evening, he came home earlier than she expected…sometimes with groceries, sometimes with pastries, and once, with a sketchpad and expensive markers. He had noticed her doodling on napkins and wanted her to "have the real thing." It melted all her defenses. Every little act of kindness, every word of encouragement he gave her chipped at the wall she'd built around herself. But she refused to name the feeling growing inside her…not yet.

I opened the door just a few inches and saw a small cardboard box sitting on the carpet with no name and no return address, so I pulled it inside and opened the lid while the others crowded around me to see what was inside. Resting on a bed of white tissue paper was a single rose made of delicate glass and the stem was broken in half so it looked dead and jagged, and I knew immediately that it was a message from Elena Romano because that rose was the symbol of the investment firm we had burned down in Berlin.

Rosalie didn't like it . She flinged another one of her denim shorts and started to search the wardrobe once again from the scratch but Rosalie knew that chances of getting a proper dress in her wardrobe was a near impossible feat . She was just thinking whether she should make do with her poison ivy casual shirt and white pants when the most seductive of pine and amber dry cedar invaded her nostril . Rosalie felt her wolf purr in satisfaction , pulling back her ears and sniffing the air eagerly . Rosalie turned around and lo and behold , Aiden was standing in the room ; with a look of complete confusion and amusement on his face as he looked around the massacre Rosalie had done in their

And people like him always underestimate girls like her. “Fine,” he mutters. “Just don’t touch anything.” She cheers, slipping past him before I can grab her, and I have no fucking choice but to follow. The aquarium is quiet, the only sound the low hum of the filtration systems, the gentle ripple of water shifting through glass tanks. Rosalina moves through it like she belongs there, pressing her hands to the exhibits, her breath fogging up the glass as she watches the fish dart and weave between coral. She giggles, spinning to face me, her eyes bright with something pure. Something unguarded. “Leonardo, look,” she whispers. “They’re so small.”

I whispered, looking at the decoration. “How did you guys do this?” I asked, looking at everything. The colour team was a beautiful gold and black. My portrait was everywhere, but my favourite was the one of me, Aurelian, and Rose. I walked towards the portrait, staring at it. We were seated in the field. Rose was seated on my lap, and Aurelian wrapped his arms around us. My eyes watered; this is so beautiful. “How did you get the perfect drawing of her face?” I asked, touching her face.

“And she’ll be mine.” Claire rolled her eyes. “You’re unbearable.” Rose, quieter, handed him a sketchbook. “Draw her. Before you lose the chance.” He did. Right then. A single line drawing — Sophia, reading by the window, sunlight in her hair. And beneath it, in small script: “Mine.” Mira gasped. “He’s doomed!” They laughed. But Sophia? She just smiled. Because this — this teasing, this love, this belonging — wasn’t performance.

[Rose] I stared at my face in the mirror and sigh putting on my lipstick for the second time. My time coming up for another dance. I could feel my feet getting sore minute by minute as I made my way towards the dance floor. My teeth unintentionally bit my lower lip softly as I suddenly saw Kaden standing near the stage. The club was filled with people because it was a weekend. I had t leave early today because I was going apartment hunting tomorrow morning. I didn't care about the size. I didn't care if it was not convenient.

I could see his eyes shine, but I shook my head at him and cleared my throat—a signal that he should act nice. “Wow, just for me? This is beautiful. You know, you've always loved drawing.” “Really?” she asked curiously. “What other things did I love doing?” “Why don't I tell you, darling?” He handed the painting to one of the servants as we walked further into the room. Rosa and Ruby walked in, side by side. My expression immediately turned sour. “Oh, I didn't know you'd be here,” Rosa said, acting all nice.I knew she didn't give a fuck about Anyssa, she'd always hated her.

Since Rosalind knew Gabriel was right, she let Jane go to school with Luca. One day, Jane went home and brought a drawing. She showed it to Rosalind by placing the picture on the living room table. The picture showed a pregnant woman, a little girl, and another woman in the distance. Near the pregnant woman and the girl, a man stood beside them. Then, she added another man somewhere. Rosalind smiled to see the picture. “Sweetheart, what did you draw?”

Crystal mumbled to herself, a sigh leaving her lips as her delicate fingers touched the flower’s petals, the morning dew sticking onto her finger like a bug, the warm drops of water barely noticeable. She took out her pencil and sketchbook, something that Angelica gave her to pass time, and improve her designs if needed. Although, Crystal is firm in her draft, it just needs a little more editing and nothing much. She sat by a large tree, leaning on the bark which seemed smooth enough to ensure her back won’t get injured. She took a deep breath and began sketching the flowers in front of her, roses, the vivid type of flowers that held so many meanings, so many reasons to use.