I turned to see his face. His features were not perfect, I
admit. But they all fell together so perfectly – those warm and inviting
chocolate brown eyes, carved just deep enough for his thick lashes to appear as
just the right length, those cheeks, soft yet rough and virile, and those lips
- soft and dominating. Those lips that twitch slightly to the left every-time he
smiles that wickedly charming smile. It was impossible for me not to love that
face. Why, you ask. Because I knew it so well. It was, perhaps, the only thing
I was sure of in my chaotic life, the Northern Star to my lost and wrecked
bark. Then I looked into his eyes and saw his shattered spirit. I looked into
his eyes and saw his aching soul. It was then that I realized his flame would
die anytime if I didn’t fuel it soon.
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