|...Wearing My Marant Time Machine|
5. Practically Imperfect
"Sometimes I forget how beautiful you are."
From across the room he saw her that Sunday morning, naked, surrounded by a sea of sheets, with the light through their city windows shining on her messy brown hair. He really saw her though. Her beauty so obvious, and natural, why hadn't he seen it everyday? He saw who she really was that Sunday, lost and complicated, scared and vulnerable, sexual and manipulative, wrong and kind, in love with love.
He saw her beauty that Sunday in it’s whole, because he stopped searching for excuses, right when she had found all the answers.
She cried that weekend somewhere away from the city, to someone unexpected, wearing something beautiful.