Like an azure mist that shimmered and swayed about her slender form. She was the sort of girl who would never enter a room, or walk down a crowded street, without turning heads. It was like a sudden tension that entered the room with her. A sheer electric magnetism that drew all of their eyes her way. A swift rush of fear that brought womens' hands to husbands' chests.
She was beautiful.
Like a tropical sunrise, or the settling of a snowflake on a single blade of grass. Perfect. But for it, so unattainable.
Like the dream that always slips away.
She walked through her own world of whispered sighs and forgotten breaths. A well of silence enveloped her; spreading before her like ocean spray, and behind as perfume's lingering scent.
And Alexis Crone was swept away.
Crushed beneath an overwhelming need to touch her pale, pale skin. To run his fingers through the sheen of her hair and capture the sunbeams it surely must contain.
To feel her cherry lips on his.
She stood before him. Her eyes sparkled with all the beauty of both summer's sun, and winter's frost. They drew him in: a promise of untold sweetness. But all he could think, for that unending moment of captivity, was how the colour matched her dress:
Such a perfect shade of blue.