a handsome man - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was handsome from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon my own. I loved the way his voice quickened when he sparkled with a new idea, or was so enjoying one of mine that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others. So I gave him my heart and kept his safe, that's the way it was.
No one feature makes Mark so handsome, though his eyes come close. People often speak of the colour of eyes, as if that were of importance, yet his would be beautiful in any shade. From them comes an intensity, an honesty, a gentleness. Perhaps this is what is meant by a gentleman, not one of weakness or trite politeness, but one of great spirit and noble ways. What he is, what is beautiful about him, comes from deep within; it makes me want to feel how his lips move in a kiss, how his hands follow the curves of my body. As each year passes the lines will deepen upon his face, he will be more handsome still, as if his soul shines through his skin.
No-one except his mother had thought Ivan handsome as a baby. Their gaze had halted when they got to his roman nose and their "new-baby-smile" had faltered for a fraction of a second. As a boy he didn't attract the girls. He was skinny and his cheek bones just gave him a skeletal look. But by fourteen he was filling out, he had muscles from biathlon training and skiing all winter. By twenty it wasn't just the girl's after him. He had grown into those features, his bone structure was fine and perfectly symmetrical. It was manly. And as he aged he became all the more striking, as a silver-fox he was still asked to grace the cover of magazines over his younger peers. His wife Tina always said it was because with every passing year more of his inner beauty showed on his face, there was softness in the eyes and gentleness in his smile.
He had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. I guess he must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course the blush that accompanied it was a dead give-away. It didn't help that he was so modest with it, it made the girls fall for him all the more. Despite all the opportunity that came his way he was a one-woman-man who prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and high-heels. He was handsome alright, but inside he was beautiful.
But you want to know about my man, right? He’s a private guy, so you can’t tell you much. He’s got that brown skin adonis look going on, dark eyes that make me weak at the knees. He has the heart of a lion and the soul of an angel. He’s a fair few inches taller than me, which I like. He’s slim, muscular, with an almost perfectly symmetrical face. He has an African heritage that shows in his features and body type. Everyone loves him, they’re drawn to him. I see it in the way they hang on his words and reciprocate his smile so quickly. They want to be close to him just like I do. If he wanted to he could have more friends than hours in the day, but for the most part he just wants me and the kids and for that I feel truly honoured. He could have had almost anyone, he could have had someone with a bigger bust, a smaller waist, blonde hair and more self-confidence. He still could, men don’t age as fast as women do they? Not in our culture. We’re over the hill at twenty six and they're good till sixty, more if they stay trim. But he doesn’t want anyone else. Apparently, my love is enough.
Found in Are you awake yet? - first draft, authored by .
He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerising deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout. His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eye brows, which sloped downwards in a serious expression. His usually playful smile had drawn into a hard line across his face. His perfect lips ripe for the kissing. His strong hands, slightly rough from working, held mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I couldn't help but blush. His smile etched its way back into his face. His body was warm and toned as he hugged me, comforting to the touch. His voice was deep, with an serious tone. His lips brushed my ear as he spoke, "I really do love you."
There was only one word to describe the sun-kissed Grecian. Where his eyes were the green of fresh dew glinting in the sunlight off a leaf of green emerald. His lips were pale and thin and his nose slender and rounded. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen. He was an Adonis among the other men who each pale in comparison. One look and both women and men swooned at the sight of him no matter their sexual preferences and one word passed from his lips had even the straightest of men flushing shades of red that no one ever knew was naturally possible. Adonis.
Azura gaped openly as she observed his sharp jaw, chin, and cheekbones. On either side of his straight nose were two blazing hazel eyes. Spiked, warm brown fringed with smooth green. His dark brows were actually graceful, but currently furrowed in a frown. All of it was framed by thick, warm dark chocolate curls. They locked his hands in front of him with chains, which were wielded to the wall. His muscled back was bare. She couldn’t see his chest. Part of her wished she could. The other very small part said she should get ahold of herself. She let out a shaky sigh.
His curls were midnight black and his eyes were dark brown, framed by graceful brows. He skin was tanned. He had prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin and nose. Unlike Aiden, his was always obscured by his fuzzy, thin beard. Muscles rippled across every part of his body. He was obviously a seasoned warrior. She’d never seen a man with those features, but she knew, without a doubt, that he was Roman.
A man was lying on the ground, breathless but he was still alive. I turned his body so that I can see clearly his face. I was surprised, recoiling in shock. He was a man of any girl's dreams. He had smooth flawless skin, which was like a sheet of well done cloth. His eyes, which was under his burgundy short hair, glinted under the moonlight. He had high-bridged nose that was among his two eyes. His soft sharp lips were very attractive and captivating. I wanted to touch it but I decided not to do so.
When I opened my eyes again I found myself in a 1830 Victorian Era setting bedroom. A tall man towered over me. His appearance alone was seductive. The man's rugged features were alluring. His raven black hair, which glisten in the moonlight illuminating from the window, was combed back and his face carefully structured. As if God had molded him just to spoil these eyes. The cold blue eyes of the man were full of intensity. He had a Roman nose and a thin pair of lips that was in a form of a smirk. His tight jaw was an angular shape that was filled with little stubbles. His pale skin looked so...right. The man had on a white cotton shirt with a silky blue vest and a pair of black pants, which tied everything together.
Agent Carter was like a swimwear model without the charm. Black, clean cut and the recipient of a humour bypass. But if you wanted efficiency he was your man. The FBI had been his childhood dream and he lived it like he was an all action hero. Backing up that muscle was his perfect aim and faultless paperwork. He can't keep a girl though, I hear he cycles through them faster than his razor blades. The job always comes first with him, but he can't stand it the other way around. The first time he's cancelled because they have to work late or see a girlfriend, he pouts and picks up a new girl. In that way his good looks cursed him, enabling his urge to ditch his women rather than work things out and improve his character.
The man if anything is fitter looking than I expected. His face tells of a lean body beneath his wintry garb and his expression is serious but not unkind. He has that salt 'n' pepper look to his hair, against his still youthful skin it's better than catnip to me. He introduces himself formally, giving his business title and so do I. Though I'd have made the deal if he'd looked like a fermenting potato, it just makes things more pleasant that he is so inviting to look at, to flirt with.
On the top was flawless black skin and eyes that shone brightly - making Erica want to get to know the person within. She watched him move, there was something of the warrior in him combined with a gentleness that made her heart reach out. He put the engine together like he'd been doing it all his life, every movement competent and flowing. She bit her lip, how could she start a conversation when she didn't know him? Then in that instant he turned and caught her eye; before she could turn away with shyness a genuine grin spread across his face, turning it from handsome into divine. In that moment she felt her body flush warm. This was a person she wanted to know more than she'd ever felt before. This was a guy she could love for eternity.
A beautiful face. Well defined, with a sharp jaw and angular cheekbones. The complexion of his skin going well with his ocean-like eyes. He looked down for a moment, pouring himself a drink and bringing the alcohol to his lips. The burning sensation pouring down his throat, creating a warm feeling deep inside of his stomach. He would just have to wait for someone entertaining to arrive.
Raven looked over at her partner. She had to admit he was an attractive man, but he wasn't her kind of guy. Nathan was tall. Taller than the average man, but slightly shorter than her Russian target who stood a tall six foot two. He paced across the room in even strides, his feet gently pounding on the floor. Nathan West was a strong man whose muscular definition had slightly worn off due to his lack of training, but his white dress shirt still clung tightly to his skin, showing everyone that he was still in the game. His long fingers ran through his short and wavy brown hair which shifted back into place once his hand had gone past. The light coming from the windows made it shine to a shade of melting milk chocolate and his slightly tanned skin glowed, making his stubble covered chin seem darker. The man's high cheekbones, perfectly accentuated his face, and his full pink lips were pressed firmly together in a flustered expression. His eyes, which were normally a simple sepia colour, were now a golden honey hue and seemed to be screaming out his emotions. Raven always said that his beautiful eyes would give him away one day. Make him blow whatever cover he had. But Nathan always insisted that it was all part of his charm.
The boy wore a loose black silk shirt with leather cuffs and black trousers.However, he got better the more I looked. His rich chocolate hair that had tousled griminess which promised finesse. He had strong arched brows and eyelashes so thick, it could be illegal.And then his eyes- they were deep and catastrophic, a vivid baby blue as a great body of water that softly melted into a milky green. This close, I could see the flecks of silver in his eyes. He had distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, his pale skin made him look devilishly handsome.