Burgundy lips and snowflakes.

Her lips were burgundy and almost looked as though her lips were caked with dark blood. It differentiated most extraordinarily from her ashen skin, lightly brushed with an array of faint freckles.  She had dark eyes that forever took captive each and every soul that dared to look within them long enough. They were closed as she gently kissed the bare shoulder of the young man who lay half encased with feather blankets. She herself was wrapped up with a thin blanket, veiling the pale vessel, and chills graced her shoulders as the brisk, snowy wind tumbled in through the open window and the curtains fluttered along with it. The man, whose face was a light bronze and just barely covered with dark scruff, let out a long sigh of content as his eyes closed and his fingertips seared across her forearm.  Snowflakes danced onto the bed that lay on the hardwood floor, landing on the serene couple. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths that painted a symphony on the silence that they were adorned in. She listened to the music, orchestrating her own part, with the rustling of blankets as she brought her legs up to her chest, but half across his, and rested her head on his shoulder, her dark hair flowing like a river across the mountain of blankets. Her fingers traced scars on his stomach, strong to the core, and she could feel his body tense underneath her fingertips. She took his gentle hand, weaving his long fingers with hers. Another gust of wind blew in, dragging further snowflakes into the simple room, and her eyelids fluttered to a close just before his did. A blanket of melancholy sleep pulled over them, curled up against each other’s faintly quivering body.

Author's Note

Mmmm. :)