She was beautiful, I realized in a way I hadn’t ever let myself before. Not just in the way of pretty girls. No, her beauty was written in her very bones. In the slope of her steeply carved cheeks and the faint hollow beneath. In the full brows arched delicately over large eyes that were dark but warm, vital. Freshly tilled earth instead of a night without stars. She looked almost fragile, but I mapped the strength of her character in that stubborn chin, the knit of her brows, and the flattenin’ of a full mouth into a fine line. Slim limbs carved with muscle, sharp nails painted black. A
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