Ap Psychology Creative Writing

His eyes. His eyes. His eyes, those eyes. They’re the color of everything that’s beautiful. The color of pine trees, the center dark green, the colors of a bruise, but the edges change to the brown color of dead grass. But they aren’t ugly like dead grass; they are as beautiful as the night sky. Eyelashes dark and long, like wings of a bird. His skin is the color of cream, smooth like silk. Silky cream skin. His fingers are long and thin, nails trimmed to perfection. His fingers tips ice like, but the rest of him is the warm sun. He’s strong like a tree, but slim like a piece of bamboo. Shoulders bold, looking even stronger with the white tux he wears. Smooth without one single crinkle. His feet a funny, they stick out when he strides down

When he walks he makes that ‘click click click’ noise with his shoes. His shoes are as black as his shoulder length hair, black as a raven feather. Slick back on his back not a hair out of place. Everything about him is organized like a person with ADHD dressed and fixed him up. When he walks in a room, everyone stares trying to figure out the puzzle that he is, a tall looming boy who can’t be figured out. You couldn’t figure him out even if you lived in his head. He’s a puzzle with a lot of missing pieces. When he smiles you notice a few things, his smile is crooked, one edge lifts higher than the other so he always looks like he’s smirking at you even if it’s a friendly gesture. His teeth aren’t perfectly white, just as they aren’t perfectly straight. They could be if he really tried, but he doesn’t because I’m not sure that he cares enough. His attitude could make anyone laugh, that is, unless he’s snapping at you. His words are venom dripping from the fangs of a snake. They can bring you joy, make you feel like you’re floating on a cloud over all the little ant people. But they can also make you feel like you’re drowning in an endless sea. You’ll never touch the bottom no matter how far he drags you down; you’re drowning in your own