I'm going to paint a character with words.
He sat on the windowsill, the drapes flowing wildly around him. His expression was that of pure relaxation. He wasn't one to smile, but the smallest hint tugged at the left corner of his mouth. His black hair swayed softly with the breeze. The jetblack mass went well below his ears. You could see his eyes for once. His shaggy bangs always hung over his eyes, that were a stunning emerald color. Long, black lashes lined the narrow gems.
His eyebrows where dark, well shaped, and set into such a position on him that no matter what he was feeling he always looked focused on something. His pale skin was like porcelain, smooth and without imperfection.
He was not athletic, but he was strong. You could just see the trace of muscles that lined his arms. He was sitting in a position that had him leaning against the side of the sill. The leg closest to the window was up so that his knee could support his arm that led up to his hand that was holding up his head. He had his hand placed to cup his chin and mouth. The opposite leg was draped over the sill and on the floor. His arm placed to rest his elbow on his leg and the rest of his arm and hand were where ever they landed.
His black T-shirt had his favorite band name written in big red letters that resembled paint splatters. His dark jeans were fitted to his legs. He wore no shoes on his feet. If it was up to him, he wouldn't wear shoes unless he wanted to for style.
He was beautiful.
He was calm.
And he was only a memory.
A picture, in the palm of my hand.
-Rhiannon Maxheimer
Thank you!
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