She can be difficult. I can be difficult. But no amount of difficulty can stop me from loving her. Because her words let me know that I'm not alone. When her arms are around me and her legs are tangled with mine I am warm and in love.
She was wrapped in black, her face accentuated- the rosy pink daintily painted across her face. Her movement- deliberate and graceful as though she was slipping through time.
And for the first time in my life, beauty had made me stop dead in my tracks.