To describe the person you love is not an easy job. Emotions tangle themselves wildly around the confused web of fingers that try to weave a spell of a description of that fatal sweetheart.
My sweetheart.... The name "sweetheart" does not seem to match with him too well; is it because I feel that perhaps his feelings differ to mine? Or maybe it's because he is too much in demand by others that are more heavier than I am on the popularity scale. Never has he indicated his feelings directly. All I see is a signal in those dark, haunting eyes that pierce through the hardest of hearts. I'm bursting to describe him but, how.... How can I personify him to you?
He is not a leader nor is he soft and pliable.... In between.... A native... A savage ___ That's it! A Native Savage!
Now I'll describe him to you as my own eyes see him; as I watch him, what I see and not what every other girl thinks or sees.
Native Savage; Black streaked brows arch fiercely over eyes that are a dark coffee brown, that blaze like fire. Rimmed with a curtain of long, thick pitch, black lashes, they hypnotize their victim ruthlessly. His nose is aquiline and leads down to a light, perfect black mustache. A few of it's soft hairs stray down to fall over blood crimson lips that are provocatively and irresistibly tempting.
His hair is jet black, shining continuously in the light. Powerfully built smooth-muscled shoulders flex onto equally powerful arms, along to surprisingly sensitive and gentle hands. His chest is hard-muscled and strong above a hard flat stomach that lies above narrow hips that support strong legs.
His skin is strongly spicy to the scent and is as burnished and dark as a tribal's, glistening in the sun as he stands posed as powerfully graceful as a jungle cat portraying the perfect example of masculine beauty.
Sometimes, the demon in me would wonder what it would feel like to be held fiercely between those arms..... What would it be like to have such a person loving you? ..... Then again, I am now exaggerating for how, or should I say when was it that such a handsome, confident and love experienced guy fell for a tempted and secretive beauteous bloodless fairy as I?
YOU ARE READING
A Mistress Of Silence.
General FictionThe diary of a fifteen year-old back in 1995. "Who am I? Have you asked yourself that question yet? No; I shall correct myself; Has he asked himself that question? He knows me and he does not know me. To him, I am who I am to everyone else; so what...
