Devastating Beauty の小説・ストーリー

“I didn’t just used you, Darren. Yes, I’ll admit it. That is how I thought of this deal before, because I need the money for Dad and Alexa. But believe me, after a while, I finally realized that I love you... I love you and I couldn’t bare to lose you, Darren...” “That’s what I thought before too. I thought you love me. I even blame myself for hurting you so many times. Now I realized that you’re only saying that for our deal. For the money. You’re nothing but a manipulative woman. You don’t love me, Claire. ’Cause if you do, I wouldn’t have been able to saw that photo of you kissing another guy. Thank you for making me believe that someone could really love me. You hurt me a lot crashing th

“Let her go! Please, I beg you! Stop it!” “No! She’s a spawn of the Devil! Can you not see it?” he asked in a hoarse voice. “Maybe you can’t! Her beautiful, angelic face conceals all the darkness within her! I will show you! Once her beauty is gone… you will see her for what she really is!”

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Kendrick lightly touched Sig's back with a finger, almost knocking him over, "Well now you won't be in trouble with her, will you?" "I-I guess so." Sig held his shoulder and then gave Kendrick a puzzled look about how he'd complimented his wife, "You-you think she's beautiful?" "Of course. Don't you?" "Well, yes, of course! But...you're..." "Beauty is something we giants appreciate in its many forms." Kendrick admitted. "But...perhaps I'm getting soft in my years." Sig shook his head, "I...I never would've guessed that coming from...well...you."

she said with the kindest smile. Abigail felt like she was going to die from a nosebleed. She looked so breathtaking. Her ruby-colored eyes, waist-length red hair, luscious lips, angled features, and round eyes made her feel jealous of her. She felt she was so inferior. In fact, Abigail was the most beautiful woman on Athmovezer land. She had witch blood flowing in her body which give her the natural beauty of their race and combined with the fact she was the descendant of the Ursula Rati Slava, made her more beautiful. But in front of this woman, she felt like she looked like the ugliest woman in the world. Being a woman, she swooned on her beauty. She never saw a woman who was as beautiful

, she replied, joining in the laugh. "But you, my darling, are beautiful. Damn! You must have been created on a day called beauty day. Your excellent beauty drives me insane, I dare not look into your eyes. You're so pretty, I can't deny it. The aura of your beauty has no rival. How can there be? You were especially beautified by the creator, Sheila and I don't think another woman can beat your chances on this Earth for if there is any other girl more beautiful than you are, she must be from another planet that does not exist! And if I should quote the great poet, King Solomon, you're as beautiful as the draperies in Solomon's palace, second to none, a wildflower in Sharon, a lily in a mount

Hell, I didn’t want him to lay his fucking eyes on her. But also… who could blame him? Kalilah was beautiful. Kalilah was beautiful. Not in the soft, forgettable kind of way. No—she was storm-beautiful. Fire-under-skin beautiful. The kind of beauty that made you ache just looking at her because you knew you’d never deserve it. She stood there, chin up, arms crossed, voice like ice and steel—completely in control. And that only made her more dangerous. More magnetic. And the vampire knew it.

She would wail at the walls crashing down and nobody would be there to catch her except him; her own personal version of hell. He turned toward the window again, watching the slow birth of daylight over the city that devoured its own heart every morning. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. Because this — the anticipation before collapse — was always the most beautiful part of ruin.

A nightmare love story told a thousand different ways. I closed my eyes, trying to shift past my instinctual disgust. It bothered me more than I could say that I did actually like it. That there was an uncanny beauty to it, even below the vague nausea of my initial reaction. Unseelie beauty meant disorder and imbalance. But there was a grotesque and gorgeous fascination to it—rotten and tragic and difficult. My phone jostled on the sheets beside my knee, and I glanced down at a text from a number I didn't know: