A/N: I'm baaaaaaack. Well not really, I'm trying to be back, but for now I'm back haha. I hope you guys enjoy this little thing~ In case you guys were wondering, I now love Twilight fanfiction. Omg, those women can write! I mean some storylines are extreme, completely eye roll-a-ble, and make Edward too damn perfect [tbh], but nonetheless they write it so beautifully it's unbelievable!
I'm now going to start replying to reviews. You know that's if I get any, haha. So if you want me to PM you, log in or make an account just to talk to me! Haha okay, go read! xoxo
She enticed the young man.
From the soft curly hair that framed her face, freckles that grace her porcelain skin, to the way her curly lashes fluttered against her cheeks when she blinked.
He didn't have the will power to look away from such utter beauty. He decided that beauty in the world was limited; whenever he saw beauty he didn't refuse himself such pleasure. He's never seen such innocent eyes as blue or as bright as hers before. Although, they were avoiding his direction, staring out at the open fields from the window on the train.
He watched the way her plushy pink lips parted as she watched the sun fall into the evening. The way her lips were made was inviting: soft, gentle, and desirable. He felt as if those beautiful lips were made for him and him only. He was curious as to how somebody's mouth could be so sexually attractive.
It should be illegal for someone to have such a taunting mouth.
The way the sleeping rays from the sun landed on her was beautiful. It was as if every single ray from the sun beamed towards her in the subtlest way. It enhanced her features wonderfully. The sun's rays kissed onto her glowing skin, making her look angelic and innocent; she was a sight for sore eyes.
He enjoyed the youth in her face. Not much girls these days looked or dressed their age. Girls were in a rush to grow up to wear the tightest of clothing known to man, highest heels, and pounds of makeup covering their true selves.
He liked that she wore little makeup. He wasn't too informed of the makeup world, but he knew when someone was wearing too much makeup and when someone wore the right amount.
This mysterious girl wore the perfect amount.
He smirked as he caught the corner of her eye looking at him. She must be wondering whom this creep was staring at her for the past hour and a half.
A part of her wanted to stand up and leave from the young man's eyes taking hold on her; she was uncomfortable with anyone looking at her, afraid of other people's thoughts. Yet another part didn't want to leave, afraid that she'd never see him again.
She bit her lip nervously.
Do I just smile at him? How about a hello?
She was having a difficult time nonetheless. Growing up she wasn't the skinniest girl or the most outgoing. Having people taunt the way she looked and dressed really took a toll on her confidence. She's very soft spoken and afraid that if she ever voiced her opinion, someone would look past her voice and call her names regarding her physique.
He continued to watch her and smiled. He liked this girl and he knew nothing about her. He liked the way she played with the ends of her scarf and the way that she scrunched her nose up like a bunny when her nose was itchy.
She liked the way he was different from any kind of guy she's taken interest in. He had that forbidden look and it worked for him. She liked his black clothing and black hair that contrasted against his light skin and freckled face.
She loved his calm demeanor. He had a laid back attitude in contrast to her tense position on the seat. He was leaning back slightly in his seat, his legs pushed out and his arms crossed against his broad chest. She had one leg tucked under her as the other leg swung back and forth just above the carpet.
Just do it, you fool.
With a deep breath - daring her own comfort zone - she turned her head slightly and gave him a shy smile with a tiny wave. He grinned at her that which warmed her heart and cheeks.
"What's your name?"
Oh, good lord.
His voice was raspy and low and very sexy in her opinion.
"Clare."
Her voice sounded itchy. Embarrassed by the way she pronounced her name, she cleared her throat and introduced herself less pathetically.
"My name is Clare," she said. She thought she was about to pass out from how handsome he was. He smiled for real, teeth and all, and said confidently, "You have a pretty name, Clare."
She grinned at him and cast her eyes down to the ground, embarrassed. "Thank you."
He brought his hand filled with different kinds of silver rings towards her, "Name's Eli."
She slowly reached out towards him and took his outstretched hand and shook it. She liked the way his rough skin came in contact to her soft, tiny one; she found rough hands to be quite sexy and did wonders to her brain. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her hand, a very chivalrous move of him.
She giggled at him. He had cocked an eyebrow and did some kind of crooked grin and shook his head like a dog. "I'm shameless. What can I say?"
They sat together on the train for the next nine hours. He's never before met someone as shy as her yet acted exactly like him. She was very sassy in her own way and blushed a lot.
They both enjoyed the same authors and books, and they were both very interested in the topics of discussion, they even liked the same movie: Batman.
He had found out that she lived around twenty minutes away from him and that she was a sophomore in university and enjoyed painting and art. She learned that he was in his last year of university and was interested in becoming a director.
Throughout their whole conversation, it didn't dawn on them that they were strangers and that they've only known each other for a few hours.
A year and a few months after first meeting each other, they were at Clare's little flat. Different colored pastels were covering her paint palette, arms, and legs.
He sat watching her paint him; his famous Eli smirk was on his face and it was genuine, not just for her painting. Like months ago, he enjoyed her freckles and eyes, and lips, and he still can't grasp that fact that it's all his.
God, I love this girl.
Her eyebrows were pushed together in concentration, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. He sat up suddenly and walked towards her.
"Sit down, silly! I'm not finished yet!" He ignored her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body towards his. The plain white oversized v-neck rose up her body exposing her filled out rump.
His hand came over it gently rubbing his hand over her cheeks, toying with the white lace. His lips placed gently on her, soaking in the feel of her skin against his. He loved her like no other female in this world. She made him feel all sorts of feelings without knowing it, but enjoying it as she went.
Her arms wrapped up around his neck, the painting palette and brush long forgotten on the little stool she had close by. She ran her hands up and down his bare back, gently letting her nails scratch against him.
One thing that drove Eli crazy was the back scratches and hair pulling that she did so often. He loved the way she kissed him. She kissed him as if it were their last day on earth. She held nothing back when it came to him; she wanted him to know that she loved him and that she would continue to love him like no one else.
Releasing her body from his he looked slightly down at her. She had bruised lips, a blushed neck, dilated pupils, and lust filled eyes; oh how he loved her.
"What was that for?" She questioned. He merely shrugged, and bent down to grasp the backs of her thighs. She jumped slightly into his arms and he walked her to the bed filled with soft white sheets and fluffed pillows. He gently placed her down with him falling slightly in between her thighs.
He looked down at her and fell in love again. The sun's sleeping rays rested upon her face and kissed her upper portion of her body. She was glowing with an angelic aura around her.
He couldn't help but wonder what life would have been like if he hadn't had met her on the train that one evening. He couldn't even remember or think what life without her love could have been. He did know, however, that he enjoyed every second of her.
He enjoyed the way she kissed him and held him to her; he enjoyed her love to no possible end.
He loved her and there was no possible arrangement of letters or words that could ever describe how much he loved her.