He was impossibly charming, tall, with tough hands and wild eyes, but tender kisses… he was exactly the kind of trouble you wanted to be wrapped up in.

She drove off with the smell of cigarettes and campfire in her long tangled hair, the taste of last night’s whiskey and temptation on her lips, a fire in her dark eyes. And oh she was the best trouble you’d ever been in. 

Where are you supposed to apply perfume? Well darling, where would you like to be kissed?


Have you ever seen brown eyes in the sun? You don’t always notice it at first but you’ll see that ‘brown’ no longer describes them. They melt into golden rays, circling an eclipse. There’s nothing boring about brown eyes, not even when the later hours encroach; they just turn into a sunset of their own. 

This makes me feel good

(via emilovescookies)