She guided my hands to her face, and let me feel from there. Her nose was small, quite rounded at the bottom, a few bumps across the bridge, from the fights she described to me, no doubt. She had a strong jawline, but a little extra fat rounded it out. Her ears were small, flexible, her earlobes detached from her head, a fact she was constantly complaining about to me, because her earrings kept making her hyper-aware of where her ears were. Her hair was short; soft and yet spiky. She laughed as I ran my hands through what she told me was her light brown streaks that came about from her cheerleading practice. Her forehead was big, and stood out against the softness of her other features. I moved down to her neck, and she laughed, the vibrations acute under my fingers. "Stop it," I laughed.
"I can't help it if I'm ticklish!" she exclaimed.
I moved from the slenderness of her neck to her broad shoulders, something she hated, but I loved, because I could always tell when she was next to me when ours brushed together. Her arms came next, strong, muscular, but soft, with only the faintest of leathery texture to tell me this was not a baby's skin I was feeling. "Soft," I murmured.
She laughed. She always did when I said something about how anything felt. I moved up the insides of her arms and found her torso. She gasped as I traced her curves, which she always said were too small compared to other girls' on the squad. I moved my hands to her hips and pulled her close. "So?" she asked. "How do I look, sweetheart?"
I moved my blind eyes to her face, considering everything I felt of her, and smiled. "You look beautiful, Anastasia. You always do."774Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlqLPDAwWfD
