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Her Smile
I knew there was always something about her. From the way she dressed to the way she walked. I wanted to know her.
She was of average height and build. Her hair the common brown with loose curls falling gently to her fragile shoulders. The color of her skin was slightly golden, obviously from hours of natural tanning. A sea of freckles dotted the tender flesh on her cheeks and swam over the bridge of her nose. A deep brown shone bright from behind the transparent lens of her glasses. Her torso was short, legs long, and breasts small. She wore a simple pair of faded blue jeans, a tight blue t-shirt under a gray zip-up jacket, and a worn pair of plain white tennis shoes that were covered in a soft coat of dirt. She was no different from any other girl that walked the halls of the school.
That was what I thought until I caught a glimpse of her smile.
Her pale pink lips parted to show a strip of straight porcelain white teeth. The joy in this gesture carried through her entire being. Even her eyes seemed as if they were dancing with amusement. It was the most breath-taking scene I had ever witnessed in my sixteen years. At that very moment was when I acknowledged her as beautiful.
From that day forward, I wanted to be the reason she smiled.
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This article has 11 comments.
i don't quite understand where the lust is in here...so could you point it out. That's the point. Everything can be longer, but the point is to stop it so the audiance will want more. You can't give them everything. Make them deman more. and there WILL be a sequel