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Harry Styles
************************************************* Caroline, a sorrowful lady in the full bloom of youth, stood alone on the beach, gazing over the azure water with her lachrymose brunet spheres. Her cinnamon hair danced lightly in the ocean breeze, tickling against one cheek as she tried to deny the stirrings in her heart, resting her cheek against one hand as she traced a finger along her silver necklace. The sun glinted off of her bubble-gum-flushed pearly shoulders and sapphire shorts that looked comfortable and easy to wear. Her coffee strands brushed against her shoulders, complementing her sorrowful milky, tinted with tawny, visage. Furry ears flicked at the top of her head, and she twitched her copper tail.
Her thoughts wandered to her days in Harry's company. They had known each other since they were children. They had spent time together so often that, despite all differences, others often mistook them as siblings. However, it was not until recently that they had recognized their feelings for each other. From then on, Caroline was sometimes needy and close, but then suddenly cold and fearful. Harry tried his best to hide his pain, but it was plain in his orbs. That was how it was to this very day.
Her ears (the horse ones) pricked at the sound of familiar footsteps. She twitched her tail happily and looked up before Harry even spoke a word. "Caroline," he said simply with eyebrows arched and a smile on his face. His emerald spheres complimented his cocoa hair, belying his audacious heart. He was dressed in refined garb befitting his station. He was bubble-gum-flushed pale and sturdily built. An elaborate tattoo snaked its way around his visible skin. An auburn growth of hair adorned his chin. As Caroline drew nearer, she caught a note of his familiar scent, a mixture of earthiness and sourness that was uniquely his. Her glassy marbles softened. It always reminded her of the time they shared.
"Harry. I feared you might not come," Caroline whispered.
