Enzo

Fifteen Years Later

Her face...it was her face that shook my fucking soul.

Not the pastel pink hair. Or the nose ring pierced through her left nostril. Or the slutty outfit that drew my eyes to every inch of creamy flesh it revealed. Or the scent of coconuts and some kind of tropical flower that drifted to my nose.

No. It was her fucking face.

The first thing I noticed was that it was perfectly symmetrical. A slightly wider forehead tapering down to high cheekbones and a firm jawline that rounded gracefully into her strong chin. Her nose wasn't too small, or large, or thin, or long, but the...