Danger Line

Chapter 3: Unrealism

When she collapsed unto the bed that night, her fingers easily traced the material of his leather jacket. She felt the leather tickle her dainty fingertips, as his face flashed through her mind. Her head rested on her bed, sinking into the sheets, while her hands were grasping his jacket. His cologne kept piercing into her nose, making her dizzy again, when she closed her eyes.

He was so unrealistic, with his hazel brown eyes and thin, yet delicate lips. The artwork on his body gave his essence the look of a sophisticated sculpture, while his defined cheekbones and aristocratic nose allowed her to drown in his facial features. As her mind kept thinking about his appearance, she suddenly realized how fragile she must look to him. She realized that she was just a teenage girl with wavy blonde hair and bright green eyes. Her milk white skin was nothing against his tan delicate skin that she happened to captive so much. He was a rock star with a rather divine looking face and muscular arms. To her, it was surreal if some elegant woman with delicious soft lips and elegant eyelashes did not take him. She would be lying to herself if she said she stood a chance with someone like him.

*

He pulled off his t-shirt, revealing his muscular arms and tattooed skin. Paige was still occupying his mind, as he pulled out a beer from the fridge, before throwing himself at his king-sized bed. There was something misunderstood about the girl. Something he just couldn't grasp, and he somehow knew he had to know her better. He had to have her, even though he turned out to be a good five years older than her. She had something special glowing out of her appearance. It was both sad and beautiful at the same time, and it made him bite his lip and burry his face in his hands. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted Michelle. He knew it was wrong, yet it felt so good.

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