He had green eyes with a bit of brown swirling around inside, matching his dark brown hair that you could tell he cared too much about.
And he was beautiful. I'm not sure why, because he looked like every other boy, but a little less put together. A little more overwhelmed, a little more lost, a little more scared.
Is that why he's so beautiful? Because he's imperfect?
I don't know.
Sitting on the table in a way that said he didn't care, most wouldn't notice how he's squeezing his hand so tight that his knuckles are turning white. How his eyes are darting around, trying to take in everything but ending up seeing nothing. How his foot is tapping and his leg is quivering.
He was afraid.
Why do I find that beautiful?
YOU ARE READING
Story Ideas
RandomI've never been able write a full story, so these are just story parts that might stir up your imagination, and I might throw in a few tips for writing. You're completely allowed to pass this and move on if you want, but I would love if you gave thi...
