They were and are and never happened.
Like the back of her hand
He knew her well.
From her favorite color to the way the lazy strings tied her shoes. From the pulse in her touch to the way her brows knot as she reads. From the way she spoke to the way she read.
He knew that she blushed when they called her pretty, but was radiant when they complimented her work. Knew that her eyes became a shade darker when she spoke of something she loved and had passion for.
In all ways
Created: Sep 14, 2009Document Media