Day-um." He whistled, keeping his voice low as he looked up and down my body. The tiny shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. "You look hot," he growled and came at me. I backed up a step and he caught me around the waist. Both of us fell back and landed on my bed. I laughed and looked up. But he wasn't laughing or smiling. His gaze was intense and it made my heart skip a beat. "What?" I whispered. Maybe he'd come to tell me how much he regretted earlier. "Has anyone ever told you just how beautiful you really are?" He breathed. The bottom fell out of my stomach and I shook my head. "That's a damn shame," he muttered and lowered his head to capture my lips.
- Romeo & Rimmel
I gazed up as if I hadn't heard, but what I was thinking was, tell
me more about the pretty girls. I was embarrassed for wanting it, it
was base, what did pretty matter? I had thought that so many times
with my mother. A person didn't need to be beautiful, they just
needed to be loved. But I couldn't help wanting it. If that was the
way I could be loved, to be beautiful, I'd take it.
The desert at night was black and a strange madder-tinted silver; the sky was black, and the great contorted cliffs, and the vast expanses of sand that stretched out in all directions. But the red moon cast a pale crimson-tinged luminescence over everything, and far above the stars were glittering points of silver.