He’s not exactly beautiful, but she kisses him anyway. He’s not exactly attractive, but she takes him home anyway. She kisses him because his smile is a hundred times more real than all the gorgeous guys she’s kissed, and it lights up his not so beautiful face. She takes him home because he’s got a certain energy, a certain intensity, a certain goodness, a certain something that just drives her irrevocably insane. She kisses him again one fateful night and realizes that though his insides turn hers inside out, his outside isn’t doing it for hers. She wonders why she can’t see past his crooked nose and fucked up teeth, and she hates herself for being such a shallow shit. But she kisses him again - she kisses him one last time. She kisses him so she’ll remember what kissing a beautiful man feels like the next time she kisses a pretty one.