Holding Out For A Hero

Holding Out For A Hero [Chapter Eight]

Authour's Notice; Hello gorgeous readers, I trust everything is well? Before I begin I would just like to wish everyone returning to school good luck this year. Hope everything goes well for you. The lone matter of business is simply choosing the cover. I'm certain there is a slide show a few chapters back, I believe chapter five? If you could go check that out and let me know which option you like best in your comment, it would be great. The cover in the lead, is the current one. That's all, if yawl would just comment, vote, like and maybe even fan; you would make my week(: Thank you guys so much for your support, I love each of you xoxo. 

Picture of Beau on the side --->

--------------------|

Chapter Eight

Genevieve’s POV

            He certainly gave off a trouble maker demeanour. His appearance screamed it. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, I couldn’t. He was so kind. Too kind for him to be a bad boy. But I could see the way he carried himself. It was a guarded fashion that I knew too well. I could also see an ice in his eyes that yelled: don’t mess with me.

 

            As he sat beside me on the couch, his eyes never leaving the television screen, I looked him over. He didn’t notice because I was sly in doing so.

His skin was tan like he had been in the sun for hours a day without burning. Of course he probably hadn’t. The Texan sun could come with such heat force you didn’t need to spend longer then twenty minutes outside and your skin would turn a crispy gold.

He was tall, nearly 6 feet. He was built broadly, in a rugged sort of fashion. I doubted anything could knock him over and defeat him. He seemed like he was sturdy and quick on his feet.

His hands were large and as they were turned facing up, you could see the clear shape of a callous on his fingers. Clearly imprinted across his knuckles looked like newly made cuts and scars from previous incidents.

His face had a youthful appearance to it. Yet I could see the tense in his jaw and the awareness of his eyes. His nose was a little crooked as if he had been punched and the bone broken. His lips were full and a bright pink, his teeth were pearly white and straighter then I had ever seen before.

            He had short blonde hair. If you looked closely you could see the dulling brown streaks placed there by the sun, gleaming in the lighting of the living room. His eyes though, were stunning. They were the brightest blue I had ever seen in my life.

The blue was so clear, calm. As you got closer to his iris, the colour seemed to fade into silver. His eyelashes were long; longer than those of any female I had seen. They were pitch black and popped out as his eyes drifted close, resting calmly on his lower eye.

            Suddenly, I heard the front door creak open and close gently. The rustling of keys and bags rang in my ears. For a minute I could feel my heart stop in fear. What if it was Greyson?

 

            “Beau?” I heard Aunt Harriet call out.