All smiles and glowing and brightness pouring from every inch of his skin.
He was radiant.
Glorious.
Warm and inviting like a cloudless day on the water.
Every time she looked at him, she was blinded by his incandescence.
She couldn't stare directly into his face, not the way the knots in her stomach begged her to.
Instead, she glanced around the edges, where it was just bright enough for her to warm up a bit.
She thought she was good at faking it, her own light.
He set a good example that she tried her hardest to emulate.
In her mind, she was just a star, a little farther away, and only a little less bright.
But he could see through her glare.
He did what she couldn't and looked at her dead on.
And to him, she was a light bulb.
When she was on, you could hardly look at her for the brilliance.
But when she was off, all you could see was fragile glass and wires.
He knew if she was handled too roughly, she'd break apart and the glow would die forever.
She wanted so desperately to hide the glass.
But to him, she was beautiful when she was off; all glass and wires and exposed.
Her delicacy was what made her different.
In a world of rocks who despised the light entirely, and flowers who needed it to live, she could create her own.
But the wires made him fearful too, for he knew that if she kept it up too long, she just might burn herself out.
