Shoulder Length Hair With Glasses Novels & Stories

The person I wanted so much to avoid, but who was now looking at me with a fright that should be stamped on my face. His hair was stuck in that ridiculous way. My God, I thought, the man never noticed that he was totally out of place just because of that fifties hair? He just needed to let go, but he always seemed to attach to an elastic band and put gel on the wires. I always had a weakness for men with hair up to their shoulders, I knew that was the right greeting of Hazz's hair, but he didn't let them go. I think he was bothered that the locks kept falling into his eyes, but a better cut would solve everything.

“Wait, my hair isn’t long.” “No. But your head is above the fridge now. You’re going to tear out of that shirt with the shoulder width you have and your eyes are lighter. Not to mention your hair is a little bluer.” He pulled his hair over his shoulder, it spilling over like silk. “Did my color change? It doesn’t look like it. Have you looked in the mirror? Because I’m so close…to just…losing my mind.”

I should have expected that. We climbed into the chariot. The rider gave a polite nod before clicking the reins. The wheels creaked first, then found a rhythm against the dirt path. The building zipped past in familiar shades as I stared out the window. "So," He said, leaning back slightly. "What happened to your hair?" A second passed before I realized, then chuckled; "My hair was getting too long, no? I needed to cut it." "It looks good on you… And weird too,” he shook his head. “The shortest I’ve ever seen your hair is shoulder length."

I raised my head to look at him. Now that I could see him clearly, I realized that he was just as handsome as Keiran. He was only a few inches taller than me. Some muscles were hiding under his clothes, but he was slim. His skin was pale, almost in a sickly way. Pale green eyes watched me with curiosity. “You have long hair,” I muttered. It was not something I had noticed last night. “Shoulder length. It needs to be cut.” I slowly straightened, making him take a step back.

There was a coffee table between the two couches that faced each other that always had sweets, savory snacks, tissues and a candle. His obsidian dark eyes kept looking at me through the thin framed glasses that should not make him more attractive than he already was. But they did. It was unfair how deliciously hot he looked in them. It made me want to lean closer and take away his glasses to see what he would do. His hair was sleeked back, his stubble neatly trimmed over his sharp jaw. A crisp grey shirt stretched over his broad shoulders with sleeves rolled over his forearms and the veins on his arms shifted ever so slightly when he wrote something in his diary.

I clear my throat because her hand print is now searing on my shoulder. "Second cabinet on the top," I say in a rush. I go to push the bridge of my glasses up and over my nose but my fingers fidget with nothing when I remember that I am not wearing them because I was planning on going to sleep. "Tall glasses are on the bottom shelf and short glasses are on the top. Thought I would tell you that incase you were feelings like a lot of water or just a couple swigs..." I can't stop talking now. "Thanks for the options." There is humor in her voice and my cheeks now burn more. Even the tips of my ears sear red.

Nothing about him is bulgy, just trim and fit. He has shoulder length loose curled hair that I am not sure if it is brown or auburn, it looks silky and my fingers itch to run through the strands. His face is an art of chiseled and perfectly properties lines. And his eyes are the clearest pair of green I have ever seen. Everything about him is just irritatingly perfect, it is unreal. "You want a picture? It will last longer," he teases, making me flush down to my toes. "Sorry, that was mean," he apologizes.

How come she can't be more beautiful like Kim? Instead she has dull dark brown hair that barely reaches her shoulders. She is short reaching a height of 5"4 and the worse part of all is she is fat, not chubby, but fat weighing in a whopping 275lbs. I growl at that girl staring at me before walking to my dresser picking jeans and a baggy hoodie to hide in for the day. I find my big dorky glasses next to my bed and slip them on over my blue eyes It was always strange that my eye color was so different from the brown eyes all my family members have, but being the only fat ugly one too I let it go quickly.

I breathed. He was tall, over six foot easily, with broad shoulders and big arms. He had a strong sharp face, a soft dimple in his chin, and a prominent brow. His eyes were a deep denim shade of blue. His hair was dark and neat, and while it looked like it had been styled earlier in the day, it was now in total disarray thanks to my efforts. He wore a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up twice. Like he’d come straight from an office.

She looked as if she had attended an upscale city university, if one looked and judged her solely at her appearance. She had a fashionable hair cut where the right side of her hair, around her approximately shoulder length, was significantly longer than her fringe on the left which only cut off just underneath her ear with a curved gradient swooping around the back in a way that indicated that she probably wasn't a surgeon and had probably found employment in a more affluent area to afford the maintenance that such a style demanded.