Despite his bravado and independence, there’s still an air of innocence about him. There’s something vulnerable about his full mouth, with the pouty lower lip and pronounced Cupid’s bow when he’s not smiling. The way his brown hair—almost black, like dark-roasted coffee—always falls over his left eye and how he tries to push it out of the way with an impatient brush of the back of his hand, which shows his uncoordinated movements. His huge brown eyes twinkle with happiness most of the time and drink in everything happening around him with enthusiasm, but fill with loneliness when he doesn’t think anyone’s looking,
But Ilook. Probably more than I should, considering he’s sixteen years my junior. The spine of steel, the bubbly joy, and the vulnerability he does everything to hide, make my belly all warm. Make it impossible for me to look away.
With a shake to my head, I slam my palm on the book and push it away. I need to stop being ridiculous, right this second.