From Me to Him, Him to Me

Literate for a Day

He turned to her, finding a tunnel vision to her icy-grey eyes, eyes that were aflame with curiosity and awe. He had noticed quickly – last night, in fact – that she wasn’t of a nature to hide her feelings. Rather, they unashamedly manifested themselves across her face for the entire world to analyse. He found himself thinking back to their meeting on the tower that afternoon, how he’d been stalled by her wild beauty, unapologetically natural. The way her accent fumbled over words, heavy and alluringly course in her mouth. The way he’d watched as the cold air nipped her pale cheeks rosy, and wisps of dark hair had frustrated her as she’d walked. The way he watched the pink fullness of her lips, and wondered what it would feel like to kiss them softly. Mostly, the way he’d noticed for the first time how graceful her collarbone was, curving gently downwards towards her surprisingly ample chest. He winced then, almost voicing an entirely hollow humourless laugh. You’re just a man, after all, the wry voice within his head spoke.

Is there an attraction? Arthur had asked him, ever keen, less than an hour ago.

No. he had lied, the first time he could remember doing so to his oldest friend.

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