Joshua

Anne

He sauntered in with his medium-sized traveling box rolling beside him. He was putting on a black leather jacket on top of a black round neck shirt, then had on blue crazy jeans that had slits more than my old, worn-out tights. His feet were covered in white sneakers, the size of my head.

He was tall and slightly built. He had blue orbs surrounded by thick, short lashes and a subtle sharp-edged face. His nose stood tall, thin, and proud. He had thin lips covering a set of well-arranged white teeth that was sure to give his dentist no stress. On top of his head was a mass of short ginger blond hair. All in all, he was a nice male specimen.

The same housekeeper that opened the doors for him took his luggage and disappeared. He just stood in the middle of the large foyer, looking around the walls and ceilings with a smile on his face, as if reminiscing the good days.

When his eyes landed on me, standing on the staircase, with my feet on different steps, the smile he had vabished