F I V E

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If I tell you how beautiful she is, you will never call me an idiot again.

Her face was stunningly adored by her tiny rosy lips, ocean blue eyes...

Oh how I love those eyes. Those deep oceanic blue eyes. Capable of entrancing the people with their charm.

When she painted the canvas and filled it with colors, her eyes changed hues to the reflection of those colors.

Her smile was the brightest thing, even more brighter than the sun.

And her blonde hair, waving up and down, to and fro, flying freely. I remember how she used to tuck those hair back with her paint brushes and how a few dabs of paint adored her face a little more. I always felt the strong urge to go and clean those spots from her delicate soft skin. But I never did..

 But I never did

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