What Does Ethan Winters Look Like Novels & Stories

She gives me a peace sign, smiling brightly as she walks away. I let out a deep breath, the flames drawing my attention to the mesmerizing smell of the pine woods. I let myself relax, thinking nothing for a few seconds. “You are here.” I turn my head in the direction of the voice and my stomach churns at the sight of this guy, Ethan. He looks so cozy, his cheeks pink, his lips rosy. His hair is ruffled from lying down too much but he looks so cuddly and pretty. His attire is a little different from what he had worn to Kai's birthday party. He wears an intricate pattern with plain design garment and a white soft feather jacket over his shoulders.

and head out to see what was going on. Victoria stepped out of the car and was dumbstruck by what she saw. She looked at Ethan and what she saw made her marvel. He was a male model and he was adored by the fairer sex for his Teutonic-gold hair. It was a casual jumble sometimes but mostly neat and flowing. His crescent-of-moon eyebrows were thin and narrow. He carried an imperious nose well and his angular cheekbones carved down towards a flinty jaw. Unusually for a model, he had a manly, Samson physique. The catwalk loved the way he glided with an athletic grace without skipping a beat.

I waited for Ethan to do something desperate—to open fire, to drop a crate, to try one last act of god-like violence from the air. The helicopter skids hit the snow twenty yards away, sinking deep into the powder. The side door slid open with a mechanical hiss. I expected Ethan. I expected a man with a high-powered rifle and a soul made of ice. Instead, a figure stumbled out of the cabin. He wasn't wearing tactical gear. He was wearing a thin, torn hospital gown under a heavy coat that looked three sizes too big for him. His hair was a mess of dark tangles, and his skin was the color of ash. He looked like he’d fought his way through a war zone just to stand on that patch of snow.

that vibrated with a low, bone-chilling hum. Ethan emerged from the shadows of the porch like a specter. He had discarded his tie and his jacket. In his crisp white shirt, now stained with sleet and grease, he looked "possessive and dangerous." He didn't wait for them to reach him. He leaped from the porch, his 6'3" frame colliding with the lead Auditor.

Ethan whispered. I looked up and nodded. "Yes, why not?" His gaze shifted downwards and that's when I realized I was gripping his arm. "Sorry." I released it.. It felt like we were inside a giant globe.Al that was missing was the snow. But instead of snow, we had golden lights. "Ethan Wilder." A man in a white tuxedo, a gruff voice and white hair and beard stopped in front of us, leaning on a brown cane and a steel wolf head. He had a glass in his hand.

It was the first time our paths had physically crossed, despite hearing about him quite a lot. Ethan, sitting cross-legged, respectfully wasn't someone that many people would simply give a passing glance. He was easily one of the most good-looking people I had ever seen. Everything about him appeared to effortlessly dance with an enviable grace. His complexion emanated a striking fusion of colours — a harmonious blend of light brown and olive. It was like a breathtaking symphony that showcased the intricate tapestry of his diverse heritage.

She glares at him and he stops immediately. “I'm sorry.” Wyatt lays a hand on my arm but I pull away. He huffs, clearly annoyed but he listens to his mom and says nothing. We all sit in silence until the nice nurse comes into the room. I notice for the first time that she's a short and slightly plump woman, with a beautiful face and kind smile. She's African American and has a lovely complexion. She could easily be a movie star with her remarkable features. I'd place her in her thirties but no later. But it's her name tag that catches my attention.

Nine hefty men in black strode in and took a pause. “She's here. Check everywhere and bring her to me.” Ethan ordered. “Yes, Sir.” The men chorused in unison as they spread out to find the price- Naomi. Naomi's face shone in shock. As she took in Ethan's looks. He lost a bit of weight, but he never lost his charm. Ethan's eyes flickered past Naomi twice, and his heart thumped against his ribs twice. Something clicked. The body, the hair. The curvy hips, but the face was nothing close to what he was searching for.

I padded closer to the bed. Ethan lay there, pale and still, covered up to his neck. His dark lashes rested against his cheeks, and the mask fogged gently every time he exhaled. He looked so unlike the Ethan I knew. This Ethan did not have that smugness in his eyes or that careless smirk. He just looked human and tired.

Father and I were seated, waiting for Ethan's arrival and finally, a door at the last end of the room was pushed open, revealing a pair of perfectly long legs that made their way into the hall one after the other. I slowly raised my head and his body was the most…. attractive one I had ever seen. Maybe because I spent most of my time seeing wolves that were only as old as my father…but still Ethan still looked like he spent his whole life eating healthy. He had muscles in the right places that were just the perfect size. I finally raised my head to look at his face and just like I heard, his handsomeness was more than words could define. He had dark long hair that was packed into a ponytail