Honey, could you at least look at me? His voice was gentle, comforting, and beautiful. I could feel it begin to eat away at my facade. He was standin... behind me, so close that I felt his body heat against my back. I sat on my bed facing the wall opposite the door, my feet criss-crossed and my hands stiffly at my sides. I refused to look at him and as such he walked around, taking a seat next to me. Although I didnt want to see his face a force compelled me to look. I turned towards him, seeing. She combs her raven and electric blue hair and then touches up her eye make-up.“Every good girl is always ready,” she says into the mirror. She notices out her window that a handsome neighbor from across the alley is watching her.He is strong in an unassuming way. He stands among his books and antiques sipping a whiskey from an old fashion glass transfixed on her every movement. As if every falling curl of hair and every batted eyelash called to him.He always seemed peculiar to her, though they. More

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