He was aesthetically pleasing and not surprisingly smug.
You could cut yourself on his jaw line, and his eyes were the colour of silver and sapphire; he was, as my mother had put it, " a specimen for breeding."
His mouth wasn't too thin, but his lips weren't exactly clouds one would rest themselves on for an entire day. He was, perhaps, an Achilles in our times, as Achilles was in his.
I, however, had no interest in him.
" Mira," my mother would say, " He's exactly what you need."
" A pretty little toy," I smirked, as I kept reading the lost scrolls.
"Mira!" my mother snapped, she began to wipe the sweat off her forehead, " You could do worse."
That I was sure of.
I loved my mother dearly, but being married was the most uninteresting this I could think off to do with my life.
YOU ARE READING
Written In
RandomShe comes from a long line of respectable Scholars, yet, Mira only wants to travel the world and not worry about the old pages in the Library. On her 21st birthday, Mira discovers there's more to the old pages and begins her own journey. She has th...
