

The Weaving Rosaline wiped a tear from her cheek as she wrote. Golden-blonde hair, layered in every direction. Almond-shaped, bright-blue eyes, like perfect sapphires set in alabaster skin Rosaline and her words were so connected; it was painful to pull them from her mind. Still, she pressed on. She had been at her desk for almost a whole day now, but she knew that if she stopped, all her work would be for nothing. However, if all went well, the work would be well worth her time and tears. Tall enough to place his head on top of mine, with a crooked and dazzling smile, exactly proportioned to his smooth, angular faceThe Weaving by ~Serpentgamer