to be continued..

he looked as though he had stood in front of his bathroom mirror, with a comb and hair wax. And it was as though he had, with excruciating care, drawn the comb over his face in an exact imitation of the incomprehensible phenomenon, Justin Bieber.

the chair creaked as he stretched in it, the long limbs unfolding, canvas shoes scraping the carpet. His eyes screwed shut, black fringed.
His perfectly toned, muscular arms stretched out to grip the computer desk in front of him. Grasping hands taut and the strong bones radiating from the wrist, veins pulsing.

he sighed, creased forehead smoothing as he expelled air and relaxed his hands. He turned to the student on the computer over from him, eyes quickly charging with interest.