you

"what do you mean?" you asked, slowly stepping closer.

i took a deep breath:"i'm not pretty."

"your hair looks like chocolate" you whispered "and like the earth in a forest; your eyes look like a precious emerald, like the leaves of a tree after a heavy rain; your body looks so soft, so heavenly soft and alluring the same, drawing me in over and over again. your pale skin, looking like porcelain and your pointy nose, just right for your face. yes. you aren't pretty. you are way more than that."