"I'm not perfect August..." I mumbled playing with my fingers nervously, the male figure stood examining me. I almost felt like a lab rat at the moment, waiting to be tested on. The soft footsteps traveled towards me until the tall muscular boy stopped, looking into my eyes, almost as if he saw my life through my eyes.
The eyes are windows to the soul. The words of my Mother's repeated itself again.
His minty breath lingered in my face, my brown eyes looking down, avoiding eye contact with his incredible ones. His large hands made its way to my chin, lifting it so that I can meet his mesmerizing honey colored orbs.
The butterflies began dancing in rhythm as my pale cheeks redden, only a few centimeters away his lips were away from mines. "Not so perfect but so innocent and beautiful." He whispered, the chills running up and down my spine, already in love with his voice, begging to hear more.
"N-No, I'm not innocent nor beautiful." I breathed out, my eyes traveling from his kissable lips to his ocean of honey eyes. He stayed silent, only staring at my eyes as if it were the most interesting thing at the moment.
His hands left mines and found their way to my cheeks, the warmth of his large hands was felt as honey eyes of his looked at my lips, wanting to slowly devour it.
"I can see your beauty behind those brown orbs." He smiled and broke the distance between us.
Our lips attached, moving in rhythm. A magical feeling erupted from somewhere deep. I never knew something so...incredible existed. A new feeling was blossomed and I couldn't get enough of it. I loved it, I craved more.
Maybe August Whitmore was more than just the mysterious kid...He's much more, so much more.
YOU ARE READING
Eunoia • Book One
Poetrycurrently - completed. ❝ 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰, 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 ❞ Book One of Eunoia (Beautiful Thinking). A book with words dipped in emotions of a young soul. A book of different genres of poems and so on, but it's also just an...
