What Does Ethan Winters Look Like Novels & Stories

“Aisha means well, she just thinks I’m being brainwashed or crazy for being with you.” I can understand that. I wasn’t the best person to her when she first returned. I dug my fingers into my pocket, and we continued walking. I pulled the door open for her, and once I entered I started scanning the room. I immediately picked out the oddball. The cafe was empty at this time of the hour, only two seats were taken and they belonged to the two people I wasn’t ready to meet. Ethan was the only one I focused on. 6’2, slender but muscular build, curly black hair, golden hair, tanned skin, and a mean look on his face. He was facing the side of the door, so he saw me before I saw him.

He threw on whatever clothes were closest, too tired to bother with polish, and had his driver take him straight to Grandview. The moment he stepped into the suite Shawn had texted him, Ethan spotted him instantly. Hard not to—Shawn stood out like a blade in a pile of dull toys. Among all the rainbow-dyed hair and gaudy clothes, he was the only one with a clean buzz cut, sharp-boned face, and the kind of soldierly air that made him look even more striking. Every time Ethan saw him, he had to admit: if he had a sister, he’d introduce her to Shawn in a heartbeat.

"Is this the place?" Ben asked Ethan, who was standing beside him with an umbrella. Ethan smiled stiffly as he fiddled with his umbrella. "Just a minute, Ben." "Hah? What?" Ben turned. "You could get burned for refusing to use an umbrella!" snapped Ethan. His brown hair swayed in the winter breeze. Today, Ethan wore a suit of black pants and a beige sweater overlaid with a handmade knee-length coat on the outside. He looks equally charming in both human and wolf forms.

From his glance and the quick flare of his nostrils, she knew he’d scented her fear. To outsiders, Ethan looked every bit the ideal Alpha. Tall and broad, more muscular than all his warriors. His features were sharp, and his grey eyes warm enough to deceive the uninitiated. His burgundy hair was slicked back, paired with a tailored suit that made him appear civilised. Charming, even.

he said, his eyes shifting to the door. I didn’t answer. Instead, I studied him, my mind racing as I tried to piece together what was happening. Ethan was tall, around 6’3”, his dark raven hair slightly tousled, framing a chiseled face that could’ve been straight out of a magazine. His eyes were a deep, almost unnerving shade of blue, and the way his shirt stretched over his broad shoulders made it clear he wasn’t just a pretty face. Under different circumstances, I might have admired him, but I was too freaked out to care right now.

But his touch is captivating and I found myself leaning to his touch. “Winter” his voice was smooth and very familiar. I was tired to the point of hallucinating things, so I closed my eyes,this time more tightly to fend off unnecessary thoughts and feelings. If I can dream about Ethan knight touching my face,I sure as hell can dream about all the Chris’s of Hollywood kissing me. “Winter,Come on Wake up,”The voice chimed, shaking my shoulder like lightly this time. I sat up abruptly and a gasped escaped my lips when my eyes landed on the gorgeous feature of Ethan adored with a buttoned up black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his sleeves. I gulped visibly.

I saw a familiar figure stumbling around the corner toward me, nearly crashing into a medical cart. It was Ethan. My heart lurched at the sight of him, though whether from fear or something else, I couldn't say. He had lost a lot of weight since I'd last seen him at the hospital. His once well-fitted suit now seemed somewhat loose, hanging off his frame. His hair was disheveled and uncombed, stubble shadowed his jaw in patches, and his once lazy, affectionate eyes were bloodshot and wild. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, maybe weeks.

Leaving and working for the Don is not an easy job but the opportunity that comes along with it is as beneficial to themselves. "I have a small feeling that the boss would be so proud of us today," Ethan spat out to his gang members. Ethan had dark short hair that it is across his nape, his eyes, as blue as the sky, but with a depth of fear that would make any man tremble once they see it. It always frightens anyone that sees him like this, maybe not exactly what anyone would expect to see it, but as much as planned, the dreadful thing would be to accept him the way he is.

By the fifth, Ethan was tired. “Women are crazy,” he muttered, resting his forehead on the fridge. “Where the hell did my mum find those freaks?” Twilight laughed from the couch. “Try men this time around.” Ethan sighed. She was right. Or maybe not, because the man sitting in front of him didn’t look like his profile at all. He had to check again before looking up at the man before him. He was wearing a wig, heavy makeup, a crop top that showed his barely slender waist, eyelashes almost like the wings of a hawk, leggings that hugged his thick thighs so tightly, and those beards…

Where there were at least twenty people, now there is a much smaller group. Then, my eyes land on Ethan who stands shirtless and pale in the middle of a circle of men. I go to step forward, but the blade at my throat stops me. The rag in my mouth keeps me quiet, and as much as I want to call out to him, I can’t. He doesn’t look good. There are blood stains on his chest, but I don’t see any injuries. His skin is much paler than his usual golden tan. I notice the sway of his body, like he’s growing weak.