Contrast
I'm entranced by the glitter green above her eyes, the brightest shadow. It's strange that I, least feminine of feminists, find something so girly so alluring. Perhaps it is our contrasts that I find attractive: in height, in beauty, in femininity...
Sunglasses had concealed her eyeshadow until just now. She is almost mesmerizing.
I unshield. And hesitate. With a grin, she speaks.
I wish she would give me eyeball orders so I won't have to use the mesmer on the innocent assistant of the kidnapper; but I have to. My only comfort is that she might be wishing the opposite.
A/N: HollyJuliet, 100 words, blah blah blah.As always: Did it make sense? Did I do an acceptable job on transitioning from one idea to the next?
I still can't believe I actually got around to writing this. (Crap, now I guess I'll have to continue with The Grey Area. :possibly not sarcasm:)