She took another shade of Blossom Magenta, the one with the gloss. Her lips could not be fuller than a melodious pout sung so effortlessly.
She added a hint of pink blush with a soft, nervous touch. Little did she know that her cheekbones were that of every living lady’s dream.
As she gracefully applied her final touch, she then slid on her pale, peach garden frock. Flipping her thick brown hair, she slowly walked away from the hopeful standing mirror.
She walked nervously, hiding her smile and singing a Tony Braxton hit, in hope that nobody could hear her loud thumping heartbeats.
She fell on her bed, closing her eyelids with a smile. With a full moon watching, she placed her right palm on her heart, as she wished for the same thing she’d been wishing the nights before.
To meet her one true love in her sleep for yet another night.
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