Now, the BangPOV becomes intimate. The camera—my eyes—lose focus for a second as she enters my personal atmosphere. Her hair, a cascade of dark cherry and honey-brown, falls forward, creating a curtain. We are in our own tent now. A world of two.
She taps a paintbrush against her bottom lip. Blue paint. Cerulean. -BangPOV- Bella Rose - An Amazing Point of View...
She reaches out. The tip of the dry paintbrush trails from my sternum up to my chin. It tickles. It burns. Now, the BangPOV becomes intimate
She crouches.
"Yeah," she whispers, answering for me. "That's the point." " she whispers