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The first spot was a curve on her cheek near the corner of her lips. It would only appear when she was smiling a certain way.
I have this picture of her reclining on the chaise with her head thrown back on the pillow in laughter. It’s horribly composed, and I can hear her telling me how weird she thinks she looks in the picture, but it captured the expression perfectly.
The smile wasn’t particularly alluring. It was goofy even. But that’s what I loved about it. She was this angel, this siren, this muse to the world, and I was the only one who could see her like this; cheeks pulled back, giggling uncontrollably, burying her head in the pillow from self-consciousness whenever I pointed out the spot and tried to kiss it. I was the only one for whom she let her guard down, even if only for a passing moment. It was so adorable and intimate at the same time.
You need to write a book. I’ll be the first to ask for an autographed copy.
And you need to read my post on thereafterish. called Langourous. I wish we could put together an online writers’ group.
It’s in the works, and I’m going to hold you to that. :)