I’d moved to London and been in and out relationships and casual flings. I’d come out when I was 17 and been disowned by my parents. But I knew the cliché and I refused to succumb to the stereotype of being the young, ambitious 25-year-old who screws the boss. Usually never short of things to say, in her presence, I’d marvel at her ability to drain all quips from my mind, leaving my mouth bone-dry. Sitting in meetings with her at the prominent literary agency where we both worked left me feeling weak. Her hair, a lustrous brown, sat full-bodied above her collar bone, flirting with her shoulders every time she’d throw her hair back and laugh, which was often. ![]() It was alabaster, smooth like butter and translucent. The first thing I noticed about her was her skin.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |