It was fucking perfect, with tattoos covering every inch of his body, except his midsection. His beard was neatly groomed, my favorite thing about him. His pink lips poked out with no expression on his face as he prepped the shower for us. His face was relaxed, showing his laugh lines, or better yet his scowl lines. His chain rested around his neck while he walked back and forth across the bathroom while I watched him. The few beauty marks and freckles donned his face, near his eyes. As much as he looked like his brother, he had his own uniqueness about him, too.
