Post by Queen of Rain on Nov 12, 2005 13:27:43 GMT -8
She would roll over and light a cigarette. The distinct smell of Gallois would fill the room and one could only admire the placidity in the act. Restless as he was he would get out of the bed and walk around. In glances she could observe his sensual movements as he picked up her clothes spread around the room and felt their softness, just like he had stroked the gentle curves of her breasts. He walked around quoting famous poets and infamous artists.
He adored her when she lay there, beautiful and content, moving her cigarette to the mouth that was so tender to kiss. Really he minded people smoking inside, but the smoothness in her presence made him not bother, instead admire her complacent habit.
He would dream of becoming a true bohemian. He would dream of painting her where she lay to attempt to capture the independence and beauty.
Where she lay beautiful she could wish for him to return to the bed so she could feel his warm body close. Yet the smoothness in his restless steps were so beautiful, so immature, yet so manly, thus she adored just watching him.
Of course, this was before his restlessness brought him to walk right over her spread clothes and into the kitchen. Not caring to watch the smoothness of her body, instead taking up the newspaper and returning to bed to read that everything had happened and nothing had changed.
Tell me is that the right momemnt to break it into this new paragraph where I start telling you all how it is for them now?
He adored her when she lay there, beautiful and content, moving her cigarette to the mouth that was so tender to kiss. Really he minded people smoking inside, but the smoothness in her presence made him not bother, instead admire her complacent habit.
He would dream of becoming a true bohemian. He would dream of painting her where she lay to attempt to capture the independence and beauty.
Where she lay beautiful she could wish for him to return to the bed so she could feel his warm body close. Yet the smoothness in his restless steps were so beautiful, so immature, yet so manly, thus she adored just watching him.
Of course, this was before his restlessness brought him to walk right over her spread clothes and into the kitchen. Not caring to watch the smoothness of her body, instead taking up the newspaper and returning to bed to read that everything had happened and nothing had changed.
Tell me is that the right momemnt to break it into this new paragraph where I start telling you all how it is for them now?
)