Smelt like scented candles,
Tilted her world on its axis,
And trailed soft fingers down her spine,
Paralleled fingerprints on her hips,
Drawing a sharp intake of breath.

Just friends.

Sure.

Eyes traced over aged lines,
Skimming eyebrows like dates,
Mesmerised by the glory of that boring iris,
Brown eyes,
Chocolate brown,
Dark and brooding,
Curled in expansive beauty.

Sometimes he mentioned it,
How she stared to long,
If she needed a picture,
If she understood they were friends,
And her heartbeat pulsed guiltily in her wrist,
Writhing in agonised worship of his features.

He wasn't pretty like a model,
He wasn't even very average looking,
Dotted with scars,
An oval face,
Nose pricked to obscenity.

God she loved him,
Like the moon loved the sun,
Always keeping her difference,
Gazing from afar,
Breath pooling in hot puffs over his ears,
Gorgeous sculpted ears.

Stubble traced his chin,
Eyelashes were thin and sparse,
Skin rough and textured,
Like a farmer,
Although she knew he had never worked a day in his life.

Ugly,
Oh so ugly,
But so delectable,
So achingly entrancing,
Pulling her eyes away from words and numbers,
Over vast mounds of skin to his,
Unbreakable expression.

He never smiled,
Maybe that was for the best,
She'd probably faint...
He was a deadly man,
And all deadly men had dazzling smiles.