So I’ve given this whole"growing old"thing some thought and I’ve come to the decision that I'd like to stay exactly as I am right now.
Dexter Mayhew. She peered up at him through her fringe as he leant against the cheap buttoned vinyl headboard and even without her spectacles on it was clear why he might want to stay exactly this way. Eyes closed, the cigarette glued languidly his lower lip, the dawn light warming the side of his face through the red filter of the curtains, he had the knack of looking perpetually posed for a photograph. Emma Morley thought “handsome” a silly, nineteenth-century word, but there really was no other word for it, except perhaps beautiful. He had one of those faces where you were aware of the bones beneath the skin,as if even his bare skull would be attractive. A fine nose, slightly shiny with grease, and dark skin beneath the eyes that looked almost bruised, a badge of honour from all the smoking and late nights spent deliberately losing at strip poker with girls from Bedales. There was something feline about him: eyebrows fine,mouth pouty in a self-conscious way, lips a shade too dark and full, but dry and chapped now, and rouged with Bulgarian redwine. Gratifyingly his hair was terrible, short at the back andsides, but with an awful little quiff at the front. Whatever gel he used had worn off, and now the quiff looked pert and fluffy,like a silly little hat.
《One Day》的全部笔记 171篇