Scars and Bruises
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- Parts 8
Brown locks that seemed to splash against anyone within arm's reach whenever it was windy, jet black orbs that seemed endless, a body carved into perfection hidden in those clothes made to bring her comfort not to impress, and legs that seemed to go on forever whenever she gives a flying kick against her opponent. She was the epitome of perfection and grace.
Gwyneth.
A name uttered by the referee once the fight was done that sent shivers down the spines of the bystanders as they hollered in response; she gave me the chills. Our eyes met and I somehow expected her to look shocked or at least frightened, instead she gave me a wink.
And I was the one shocked to say the least.
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#87
bruises
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