beautiful

trente-six

ryker had been falling.

brief touches and silent gasps that had entrapped him in this girl he'd met only weeks before. every glance, every single glance at her had only pushed him further into that feeling. she was something breathtaking, almost a figment of his imagination as she'd wrapped herself in a pair of jeans della had lent her.

her upper half was nestled in ryker's jumper, the black material falling off her shoulders and exposing her protruding collarbones. ryker thought she was beautiful. growing black hair pooled  over her shoulders as she ran her fingers through and a small smile lit up her face.

she was a storm cloud, a mystery hidden behind sky blue eyes, hazel nipping at the edges and her eyes reminded him of pangea... the colors although distant belonging together but only in this case, they merged to create something beautiful.

her eyes were everything, a war going on with the colors and it seemed like in one, the darker had won, blue barely being seen. he didn't understand his analogies himself sometimes just as he didn't understand her. that was beautiful, utterly magnetic and overly addictive. how she wore dark clothing and had dark experiences yet she was such a light in his life.

blue. his favorite color were blue.

blue reminded him of the way they'd first met and truly he admired it whereas it was a symbol of persecution to her.

and she'd let him know about the bitter hatred she harbored for her own eyes; they'd seen too much, they were too much.

still, he thought they were beautiful.