Paintings
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People stare as we walk by. They're eyes always trail us. Yet , I don't blame them, I more so understand why they gawk at us. I would gawk too. As I look up at the tall ,muscled teenager next to me, I have to notice his cold eyes as he glares at the crowd. His eyes were cruel, and I knew why. His hair was slicked back, his leather coat hanging loosely off his slender ,but muscled body. Intimidating was the best word to describe him at first glance. But first glances aren't everything. Sometimes you have to just turn the page, and watch them unfold slowly, like a painting. Like art. And that is what he is to me. A work of art.
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[s]he's a ten, but...
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It just... happened? (boyxboy)
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I hate that I love you
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Love with strings detached
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