His curly brown hair falls messily on either sides. He is tall and his fair skin masks a masculine form. His arms are strong and in his large calloused palms, my hands are minuscule. My demure and timid being seems odd by his tough physique.
He walks with both hands in his pockets, as if he has secrets he refuse to share, his head bows humbly towards the ground and our tongues, they don't speak the same language. When he smiles and the corners of his mouth reaches his eyes, the revelation of the perfect set of teeth, showcasing his pair of dimples, it warms every vessel in the heart.
I watch him as he runs around opening doors for me and carry my things- like a man. I am merely a teenage girl, who believes the world is kind and that it is wonderful while he is a full grown man, probably already know the wilderness outside the four walls that surrounds me until i am ready to wander.