Eyebrow Length Novels & Stories

Her eyes roved over his features, her gaze lingering on the captivating shade of grey-blue. Milo had gotten those eyes from his father, there was no doubt about it. The man’s eyelashes were impossibly long, even visible from a distance. When he blinked, his upper lashes seemed to brush against his cheekbones. Logan had the habit of pressing his lips tightly together when he was displeased. And when he was trying to suppress a smile, the right corner of his lip would still curve up slightly. His habitual frown had resulted in a faint dent between his brows, which would surely deepen over time.

His nose was average length with a button tip and wide nostrils that Autumn found very attractive and manly as she ran the side of her index finger up the bridge of his nose. Then there were his eyes, they were so mesmerizing and deep causing her to fall in love all over again as they were filled with emotions like fear, anxiety, relief, concern, and most of all love that made her heart race and fluttered. His eyebrows were full and black like his beard and his forehead was crisp as he furrowed in concern. His hair was thick and long, but not long enough to cover his forehead or to pass his shoulder, but long enough to run her fingers through them as well as to grab onto when needed.

“Well she has a small face but not too small. It’s like Emma Watson’s face shape but a little constricting on the forehead.” “Lengthwise or crosswise?” “Crosswise.” She remains silent as she slightly strokes the paper effortlessly with her hand. “Did she have any mole or freckles on her face?” I shake my head, “No.” “How about her eyebrows? Were they thick? Bushy? Slim? Arched? Narrow?” “They’re average brows, not bushy and not highly arched.” “Like this?” She shows me and I was amazed at how quick she was able to draw an outline and the eyebrow almost seemed perfect with the image of this nameless woman in my head.

"You heard me right." He said. May rolled her eyes. "So what are you? A psychologist?" He shrugged while she rolled her eyes. He began to caress his jawline while studying her face. In a moment he noticed she had full, dark and perfectly carved eyebrows. They hovered above her big doe eyes that were coated with kohl and would normally unflatteringly stand out amongst other eyes. His eyes ran down to her small, flat nose, then to the tiny, black pimples scattered on

Eleanor Eli didn’t have one flaw. From his short black hair to his wide hazel eyes and strong jawline, to his bare chest and broad shoulders, his body was perfect. Even the small scar over his right eyebrow made him look sexier. Admiring his looks this way felt so wrong and yet so right.

81. Getting closer Their eyes met. Lea's brown irises met Shane's bluish irises, which stared at Lea's two thick eyebrows, which, even with makeup, seemed to be connected in the middle. "When you wear makeup, don't you have to shave that middle eyebrow?" Shane's index finger stroked the middle of Lea's eyebrow above her nose. There was a fine line of hair that met there. It was very special to him. Mubarak! Lea pushed Shane's body away spontaneously.

Her eyes are black and round, filled with love even though one eye is blue; when she laughs, you can see a beautiful love on the side of her cheek. Her mom is of average height; she has large eyelashes and figured eyebrows. Her lips are thick with a sparkle of pink; her nose is medium and much defined. Her ears are rounded and neither too large nor too small, 'normal.' Her face is generally smooth with a bit of wrinkle on her forehead but beautiful still. She is of a robust constitution but with nice curves.

He looks to be 6” 2 tall now. I admired him for a second, not caring if he saw me do it. His light green eyes look like they’re piercing into your soul, and he has broad shoulders that look like he has been working out, thick eyebrows and a perfectly trimmed moustache. He was definitely the ladies’ man.

Even though he had been around for hours now, I could not stop myself from sneaking fearful looks his way. The man's forehead was totally covered with deep wrinkles, which were as uneven as his obviously turbulent life. Bushy black and grey brows, frowned from time to time, made these wrinkles even deeper, and all these gave the man's face rather a strict expression. His pointy face was framed with short thinning hair, and one could notice a small bald spot on the top of the head. His side whiskers that began on the temples were coming down to an accurate small beard, which he was always stroking once in a while. It was possible to see a little mole on the outer side of the eye. The mole was

I felt the weight of his gaze, cold and unreadable. His face was hard, weathered like he’d seen too much. And then I saw it—the scar. It ran jagged from just above his left eyebrow, slashing diagonally down through his eye, and ending at the corner of his lip. The skin around it looked old, healed, but it cut through his expression, twisting his face into something crueler, something that made my stomach tighten with unease.