Making It Up

I looked up and him, and his entire frame eclipsed the sun behind him. He looked at me with a devious smile—showing all of his teeth. They were white as paper and looked strong enough to tear me apart. They were framed perfectly by his lips that could barely be seen behind his dark and full beard. It was long, and the hairs of his mustache draped over his upper lip. The beard made his face seem circular, but I could tell that he had a well-defined jaw. His eyes were large and a chocolatey brown, and their size matched his large, powerful nose. They were topped with dark, bushy eyebrows that matched the tousled and midnight black hair on the other side of his sun-cracked skin.

When he grabbed me by the arms and squeezed, he almost lifted me off my feet. I could see the dense hair that poked out his sleeves, knowing it went all the way up his arm and covered his chest. His hulking figure completely encapsulated mine as he stood over me and lowered his face closer to mine. I could feel the pulse in his veins as he drew as close as he could without touching. Our eyes were connected by an imaginary string that was made of steel. It grew hotter and hotter until it melted, and he kissed me. My heart was like molten metal as it pooled down into my fingertips and making them tingle.

I knew my face and my shirt were getting dirty from his touch, but I didn’t care. This was like we were being welded together, and I was melding into him.

Just felt like writing something stupid.

-Hank

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