The Red Sleeve Cuff 소설 & 이야기

The sleeves where long cuffed with furs, and her hands were clothed with a pair soft black gloves. The bodice of the dress is also painted black, accompanied with red ribbons and a little amount of black furs. Little red gems are pinned around the waist forming an aligned belt of little garnet flowers. And down below are back ruffles decorated with identical red ribbons, stocking down and perfectly overlaying the back and sides of the crimson red skirt that also have black furs pinned in its edge.

I blushed. I sprung my head up to look at him in shock. My jaw dropped. "I know you won't believe this now but just know that you are a damsel and I have been meaning to give you this..." He said dip his hand at his back pocket. He brought out a crimson colored cuff bracelet. He looks very sparkly and shiny. He asked me to give him my wrist I hesitated for a while

“It’s alright. Not my first wardrobe casualty.” “Sorry, sorry!” Pearl fussed, trying to blot it with a napkin, which only made it worse. Ava stood, chuckling. “Just stop, you’ll spread it.” Alex waved her off with a grin. “I’ve got it.” He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up his forearms. Ava froze as her eyes snagged on something. A faded scar on his left forearm, thin but unmistakable—a line of memory.

Cassian released me, walking toward the men. As he moved, he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the feared tattoo of the red-eyed raven. I could hear the men around us holding their breath at that moment. Cassian hooked a finger under the knot of his tie, loosening it, then unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. "Now, who will be first?" Cassian circled behind the chairs, his hands casually in his pockets, his posture relaxed as his steps echoed across the smooth wooden floor.

The resurrected Red Sleeve challenged Xiao Chen coldly. "As many times as it takes to send you to Hell!" Xiao Chen snarled, the Sword of the Vermilion Bird in his grasp charged again. Clang! Only this time, Red Sleeve had caught the blade of his weapon with her bare hands with blood dripping down from where the edges of the Sword had bit deep.

This is free and soft. "White again" Ril spoke. "Wear this" He spoke, moving a small box in front of me on the bed. I opened the box and there was a long dress covering up my legs. It was crimson red. There was a soft maroon bottom underskirt and on top of that, there was a red net. There was a dark crimson red stone at the neck of the dress with a small chain attached to the dress itself. The butterfly sleeve is really soft. "White is good, but this red looks good on you"

Doom reacted. "Well, not going to lie, the sleeve part is my favorite. Also, the color palette is simple and uncomplicated," I once remembered I painted myself wearing all of the suits in each class. The bolt blue Keeper suit with elbow-length sleeves and hip-length cut, which I used to wear when I was a Keeper 9 years ago. The red-purple gradient Weaver suit with cropped layers, geometric cuts, and patterns made my complexion dark. The Herald's yellow-green long ankle-length fit with random ribbons on its sleeve—which I was accustomed to for the whole nine years—didn't make any impact on me. And wearing black and white leathery, single-sleeved, armor-like suits makes me look young and edgy.

I didn’t touch it. I refused to wrap myself in him. A soft sound made me turn. Not a click this time. A presence. The door was still closed, but I knew—knew—that someone stood on the other side. Not a guard. Not Marco. Him. My pulse kicked hard against my ribs. “You can come in,” I said quietly. “I know you’re there.” A pause. Then the lock disengaged. Cassian stepped inside without a word, closing the door behind him with the same careful finality as before. He’d changed—dark shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms. No jacket. No weapon visible.

I took off the cufflinks and rolled my sleeve to my elbow as I stared at the scar that ran down my wrist. It was a deep scar that ran deep to the other side of my arm. Love. I scoffed, rolling back my sleeves as I smirked. There was no such thing.

She smiled sympathetically at me and brushed her thumb over the cuff. “I’m an old lady now you know,” she said, “I have had a lifetime of this thing in my blood, fighting it and losing everyone I hold dear because of it, because of their greed for the power that it represented,” I looked at her, not knowing what to say. “I know my dear Colton loves me, and I know he loves you. And I know what my bastard of a brother is doing to him.” She stepped back and picked up something. I watched as she presented a matching cuff to the one on my wrist. It was silver and had an inlay of the crescent moon symbol from the books on the Order on the inside. I flinched as she fastened it to my upper arm.