every time michael saw her, it was always the same. she was on the same bus, the 184, gliding on her mascara. he wished he could've found out where she was going, what her adventures were. every time he thought he had the courage to talk to her, he backed right down. and everyday, she'd slide the mascara back into her bag, and get off the bus, before disappearing down parahmore road.
{{book 1 in the make-up series}}
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mascara // m.c.
أدب الهواةshe'd glide on her mascara, using her hair to cover up the badly masked bruise on her face. {{book 1}}
