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His hair was so blonde it shone like silver in the sunlight. His eyes so light it color, sometimes they looked red and sometimes they looked lavender. He was graceful and tall, his body lethal and slender like a large feline. It was like looking a beautiful masterpiece statue made of silver and marble. Yet with all this beauty he seemed cold and almost... dangerous. When he walked everything seemed to get very quiet, as if hiding from a great predator. the quiet before the storm.
Turning his head he saw a young woman sleep on her porch. A smirk brushed his lips and he elegantly jumped over the picket fence. Bending down slightly, his hands in his pockets, he kissed her gently.
"Wake up, Princess," his voice was cool and as smooth as silk.
Elle woke up and gasped in surprise. Staring into lavender eyes as cold and deep as a blizzard at midnight she almost let out a scream. Almost. Before she could the cold strange planted another kiss on her now rosy lips. Only this time he was not gentle nor was he kind. It was a deep forceful kiss, the kind that took your breathe away. And when he was finished he merely smirked and sat next to her, scanning over the pleasant quiet little street.
"Time to become useful again, Cinderella," he whispered with a smirk.
