to the floor. He stamped the butt out and crooked me a smile. That was the scent, I realized. Clove
cigarettes.
Warily,
gucci reading glasses, I stopped and crossed my arms as I took him in. He was a little shorter than Dimitri but wasn't
as lanky as some Moroi guys ended up looking. A long, charcoal coat--probably made out of some
insanely expensive cashmere-wool blend--fit his body exceptionally well,
buy cheap true religion jeans, and the leather dress shoes he
wore indicated more money still. He had brown hair that looked like it had been purposely styled to
appear a little unkempt,
clearance oakley sunglasses, and his eyes were either blue or green--I didn't have quite enough light to know
for sure. His face was cute,
prada designer glasses, I supposed,
p90x workout nutrition guide, and I pegged him to be a couple years older than me. He looked
like he'd just come from a dinner party.
"Yeah?" I asked.
His eyes swept over my body. I was used to attention from Moroi guys. It just usually wasn't so
obvious. And I usually wasn't bundled up in winter clothing and sporting a black eye.