The way he walks. The way he talks. The way his eyes are blue enough for me. It's like as if I'm staring into the crystal that is dug from the comforts of it's dirt palace, to be polished and perfected by the hands of tradition. How I want to put my hands on his.head. Hair short and spikey,but fairer than the lightest feather. Oh how I so want to wrap my arms around his seemingly slender waist. When in actuallity he's quite muscular from working out and sports. Oh how I want to snuggle into the curve of his neck, and place soft gentle kisses upon them. Oh, how I want to hear his raspy voice, which is delic and sweet. How I want all his attention focused on me and only me. To have his head resting on mine while I graze my hand through his hair. To have his gaze focus on me and no other. To watch his sly smile form upon his face. To see him happy, and laugh.when he's in my presnce. To kiss those lips which I so desire. To watch his pale face go a slight red when playing a simple joke.U