Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Happy New Years, ya'll!
In the pregnant silence in the high school's library, Blossom Utonium tenderly nibbled on her plump lower lip, causing its color to deepen to an attractive magenta. She ran her long fingers through her endless auburn locks in a slow manner, carefully attempting to calm it to her satisfaction while she flipped to the next page of a novel she had been assigned to read for English.
Her usually well-groomed ginger tendrils were untamable on this day; it looked wild and free as the ends curled in a hundred opposite directions. To say the least, this accidental hairstyle added to Blossom's magnificence. On most girls, it would be something that was meant for ridiculed by a legion of cheerleaders, but Blossom had a natural ability to look lovely no matter what.
Next, there were those long legs to be absorbed into the mind; the skin painted in a rich crème shade, appearing to be as silk. It made any guy desire nothing more than to brush his fingertips along the twin stems, memorizing the flower petal texture, and then delicately kiss the back of her knees where goosebumps would manifest from her content.
Third, Blossom's eyes. . . The cherry pink tint of light that had never seen an ounce of make-up. She didn't need it in the slightest bit to embellish her extraordinary features; her lengthy, dark eyelashes were assistant enough to the situation—how her eyelids fluttered every so often, the lashes softly tickling the flesh.
Then, she had a mouth of a goddess, in particular Aphrodite. Her lips were scarlet, and so very full. Anyone would just love to engage in a lip-lock to the point of becoming breathless, and want to nip at the upper-center of Blossom's lip. Hmm, and they always smelt of sweet strawberry ice cream. Would they taste the very same?
And last, but not least, Blossom possessed an outrageously fierce spirit, predictable of any self-respecting heroine. It showed in every single breath she inhaled and exhaled, as if she contained a savage beast beneath her skin's limitations. Boys often provoked the monster, wolf whistling as Blossom strolled down the hallway with textbooks held closely to her chest, all undressing the redhead teenager with their eyes.
Idiots. Unworthy chuckleheads. Every one of them!
Blossom began tapping her foot on the table's leg, noticeably aggravated by how it wobbled when she went to write notes. "Ugh," she groaned, inaudible to human ears, but Brick's superhuman ones rejoiced in her irritation.
In turn, the Rowdyruff Boy chuckled, shaking his head as he observed the pink Powerpuff Girl from a circular table parallel to hers. Upon hearing the rumble of silent laughter, Blossom glanced up to him with a curious glare.
"What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?" she asked in a whisper, wary of the librarian.
Again, a chortle escaped his mouth. "No," Brick replied, a playful grin tugging at the angles of his lips. "You're beautiful." The exaggeration had come out more sarcastic than he had intended, erasing all sincerity in his honesty.
It was impossible the achieve perfection, but Blossom came closer each time Brick's crimson gaze laid themselves on her exquisite form. Secretly, he was crazy about this girl—not that he would ever mention this to a living soul. It was more fun to tease her, anyway. . .
"Stop staring at me!" Blossom exclaimed.
"Sorry. Can't help it. Your haggardness is like a train wreck—I just can't bring myself to turn away," he said, inwardly slapping himself for that comment.
"Jerk."
"Hag."
"Lowlife."
"Brat."
"Lint-for-brains!" Blossom collected her belongings, and stormed out of the library. "Arrogant dirtbag. He can never stop bothering me. . ." she murmured to herself.
If Brick could never be her chosen love interest, he could at least take pleasure in nestling himself under her skin somehow.