Six foot one. That's how tall he is. Absolutely perfect, just like the rest of him.
I'm sorry, I meant detestable.
His height is perfect for when we hug, his chin rests on the top of my head. It's just so intimate and gentle, it makes you want to hold on forever.
Not that it matters. I never want to hug him again.
Oh wait, I used that word again.
Perfect.
YOU ARE READING
He Is, He Isn't
RomanceThe first day I met him we established three things: our names, my intelligence, and his stupidity. Only one thing remains the same. My name is still Ellie, and his is still Ryan. _____ A poetic story of love, heartbreak and laughter, and all the e...
