Rosalina Drawing Novels & Stories

Layla pulled my hand, trying to get me to stay with her. "Honey? What's going on? Are you not happy to see me? Who is she?" She questioned. I turned and looked at her. After seeing my mate, Layla is nothing compaired to her. Alexandria had long, brown hair with beautiful hazel eyes. Layla had short blonde hair and brown eyes. Her face was always caked in makeup. "She's-" I started, but Layla interuppted me.

“I think you’re lying. ” A pause. “I think you’re looking for something.” Inés stood her ground. “Maybe I am.” He studied her for a long moment. “Then I hope you’re ready to find it.” And before she could speak, he reached behind her and pulled a gun from the drawer…

However, Rose remained wide awake, grappling with the weight of unfulfilled desires. ~~~ In a small cozy room near the window, with carpeted floors, a young rose lay stretched on her stomach. Her legs dangled in the air, and a paintbrush was casually tucked into her bun. Intently focused, she held a pencil, sketching on a white sheet of paper. Her tongue was peeked out in concentration.

“Flattered that you would want me at your pool party but I…” Rosalina cuts me off with a wave of her hand. She’s on a call, assessing my body as she speaks, “Yes, a pretty young girl about… I don’t know, surely in her early twenties. Can’t be nineteen…” she pauses to whisper. “Are you?” I shake my head in the negative. She lets out a satisfied breath. “Yes. Early twenties. I can take a picture of her right now to get her size but she would be no more than a size ten. And ten mostly because of these curves on her.”

Chapter 117. The room was alive with conversation and the occasional burst of Lina’s laughter filled the air. Rosealba walked into the dining, trying to steady herself as she approached the table. Two, no. Three pairs of eyes glanced up at her as she walked in, clad in a waist-snatching knee-length gown. “Miss Rosealba.” Diaro stood up, paying her a bow. Her eyes delighted and she nodded slightly, dismissing him with a smile. Lina's head snapped in her direction immediately and her lips stretched into a smile. She stood up, walking closer to Rosealba.

Rosie gasps, putting a hand to her mouth, then looks at Greyson, “Is that the sleeping God in the chalk drawing?” Greyson narrows his eyes a little at her, but nods slowly, “I think so, but I’m not certain. It looks like them.” She nods and grabs her grimoire and lets it fall open on her lap before she starts flipping pages,

"You'll find someone, Nicolas. Someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved." "Maybe," Nicolas said, though he didn't believe it. Rosa stood up to leave, but something on his desk caught her eye. The diary hadn't been pushed all the way back in the drawer, and the page with his strange drawings was visible. "What's that?" Rosa asked, walking over to look closer. Nicolas's heart stopped. "What's what?" "This drawing." Rosa said. As she walked closer to him "Did you draw this?" Nicolas quickly moved to close the diary, but Rosa had already seen too much.

she says, reaching into her backpack. She produces a drawing. The drawing shows four figures in a garden. One is tall in a white coat, two are small—one with spiky hair, one with a rabbit—and a fourth figure stands slightly apart, rendered in careful, dark crayon strokes. The labels are clear: Mama. Maple. Me. And for the fourth: The sad man. "That's our family," Rosy says. The word hits me where I am not protected. I keep my face completely frozen, a skill that costs me more in this moment than it ever has. I look at that fourth figure, standing on the edge of the page.

Pictures of Rosaline. There were around thousands of pictures of Rosaline hanging on the wall. It was from everywhere, from her home, some from school, some seemed old while some were new. Large red hearts were drawn on all her photos and messages like "YOU'RE MINE ROSE", "SO BEAUTIFUL, MY ROSEBUD", "MY PRINCESS IS LOOKING SO CUTE" and so on were scribbled on them. Sebastian was staring at them horrified when all of a sudden, his gaze landed on a large L.C.D. screen which was hung on the opposite side of the wall.

I huff quietly and do my best to ignore his leering eyes as he pushes the dazed woman away from him and licks the remaining blood from his lips. “Rosalyn is it? Don’t be shy and come stand beside your master,” Matthias says to me as he places his glass on a brown coaster on the coffee table. The way he calls Paul my master makes my skin prickle. Paul fists his hands but looks to me and nods for me to come stand beside him. My legs feel shaky as I step closer, keeping my head to the floor and hoping we won’t be here long. “Lift your head and look at me, Rosalyn. It’s rude not to look at someone when they speak to you,” Matthias demands calmly and I don’t like where this is going.