"You've got to have goals," she says, sitting there in her tight green sweater with the oval collar.
I peer into her dark brown eyes, bright with the light of the bare bulb above.
My gaze flits down to slightly pursed lips--kissable but not, as we sit together and apart, divided by a windowpane of words unsaid.
"I do," I say.
Her eyes understand.
Last edited by Cyan; 05-13-2010 at 11:25 PM.