흑막을 버리는 데 실패했다 Novels & Stories

I didn't know how much of my makeup had been ruined. Fuck! My eyes met my reflection. My mascara. Damn. I really needed to fix this. But the stupid tears—they wouldn't stop flowing. My hand scurried through the purse in my hand shakily. Setting powder, mascara, face wipes, everything. Anything to put this face together. It had the imprint of Black’s fingers on it. “Stop being ungrateful, Debbie,” I muttered low. My hand worked fast. Until… In a few minutes, I was done.

He doesn't give me time to finish. " Stop narrating whatever problems you have . Just get out of here..GET OUT !!" I don't take any more chance but get out with the broken pieces of the Vessel. In there I tried as much as I can to hold back my tears but as soon as I got out, I could not control the tears any more, they came flowing out so much. What is wrong with me . why is that I will never do something and the be appreciated by anyone .Even when I try , I end up failing. This is really my destiny I think.

His words were a plea, a confession, and a chain all at once. I tried to move, but his arms held fast, desperate, trembling. At some point, the fight went out of me. I simply stood there, his heartbeat drumming against my ribs. A long breath slipped from my lips. "Aaron," I said quietly, "I'm not someone worth losing yourself over. I'm ordinary. Forget me." He shook his head, eyes shut tight as if denying gravity itself. "I can't. I don't know how to be without you." Aaron had risen to power at a young age, mastering control over everyone and everything around him.

Because of crying her makeup was awful. After she looked at her face in the mirror she screamed."Ahhhh... My beautiful face ... Ahhh.. That bloody bit**s , its all her fault . " She took out the tissue one by one and tried to clean her face with it . She was already looking like a ghost with black liquid spreaded in her face colliding with her makeup. Actually the eyeliner black paint was mixed with her tears which become a black liquid. Soon the liquid collided with the makeup and spread across her face awfully.

Soon, there was no movement inside the cage, and blood stains were seen on the ground. "It didn't work! It failed again! The medicinal properties of the herbs aren't at a proper amount. What have you guys been doing for the past few months?!" The sentences sounded harsh, and the pair of blue eyes glowered with anger. On the sidelines, an ashen Thompson also looked highly frustrated. Success was just within reach, but no matter how hard he tried to stretch his fingers to grasp it, he could not.

The stickiness on my skin is easier to wipe away than the shame crawling under it. I glance down and see the shades I wore—cracked, and broken from… I don’t even want to say it.

It will take forever to comb these out. But I have to try. The alternative is having that cold-mannered woman come back and start ripping half of it out of the follicles. So, I find a brush in a drawer and start working on the ends, gently pulling as I work my way up. It’s a slow process, but it’s working. I catch sight of my eyes in the mirror. Blotches of bluish-purple form a half-circle underneath them, the skin hollowed out. The whites of my eyes are speckled with tiny red veins, and even the green irises seem faded.

Chapter-50 RUBY "How long will you keep doing this?" Vexon asked when I was looking in the mirror repeatedly. I glared at him and he chuckled. "Looking in the mirror continuously won't make your hickeys go invisible." I rolled my eyes at his comment and let out, "Still! How am I going to hide it? I don't wear high neck tops, and it cannot be hidden with my hair. I cannot believe this!" I looked at the mirror once again. Red spots were visible all over my neck. "It is all your fault."

It is normal, unchanged asides for the terror that is obviously in her eyes. Her wolf as well does not help matters as she is also far from calm. And she had not been calm since that fucked up dream. "This is fucked," Malisha mutters. Malisha looks at herself in the mirror one more time, and her left cheek is stained with a line of grey. Her eyes widen at that, and she rubs her face harshly trying to get the stain off of her. She looks at her hands, and the grey stain that was once on her face is now on her hands.

Seven days to prepare instead of being ambushed. It's not much. But it's something. I tried. Again. And failed. Again. But at least I tried. That has to count for something. Even if it doesn't change anything.