Name : : Luna Celestia Klein
{ loo-nah cell-est-ie-ah cline }
Age : : sweet sixteen
Grade : : 9th Grade
 
Birthplace : : Moscow, Russia
Hometown : :
Date of Birth : : midnight on the seventeenth of June.
Origins : : 4O% Russian, 3O% French, 3O% Greek
 
Appearance : : what ? you /haven`t/ heard of luna klein ? I think its time to remove the rock you`ve been hiding under sweetie. I`ll let you take a breath of air before you set eyes on the flawless goddess who likes to call herself luna celestia klein. what`s that, you think you saw the definition of perfect ? wait until you see her close up. until then, I`ll describe her for you.

♚ ; ; ηαмє & ∂ιαмση∂ѕ:
opaℓ caℓedonia dior
 
♚ ; ; ρяσηυηcιαтιση & cяуѕтαℓѕ:
{ oh-paℓ caℓ-eh-doe-nee-ah dye-or }
 
♚ ; ;ηιcкηαмє & נємѕ:
nicknames aren`t very chaneℓ
 
♚ ; ;αgє & נєωєℓѕ:
s i x t e e n and sugar - coated
 
{{ - - - - ♥ - - - - }}
 
♚ ; ; ∂αтє σƒ вιятн & ηєω уσяк:
the eℓeventh of november at exactℓy eℓeven minutes past eℓeven
 
♚ ; ; ρℓαcє σƒ вιятн αη∂ мιℓαη:
moscow, ℓocated in russia
 
♚ ; ; ηαтισηαℓιту & ℓση∂ση:
3O% russian, 5O% french && 2O% swiss
 
♚ ; ; нσмєтσωη & ραяιѕ:
the stunning city of m o s c o w
 
{{ - - - - ♥ - - - - }}
 
♚ ; ; αρρєαяαηcє & вєαυту:
I highℓy advise you to hoℓd onto something, hoℓd on tight, because one gℓance at this gℓittering bombsheℓℓ wiℓℓ make you weak at the knees. when you can finaℓℓy stand up, you wiℓℓ take a cℓoser ℓook and reaℓise that opaℓ caℓedonia dior is the defenition of perfect.
siℓky smooth, honey - creme tendriℓs cascade down opaℓ`s back; the goℓden waterfaℓℓ of voℓumptious waves ending just beℓow her rib cage. shampooed and conditioned in a madagascan vanilla bean scent, opaℓ`s hair is heaven to your nasaℓ passage.
 
beℓow her matte, bℓemish - free forehead sits two identicaℓ and perfectℓy pℓucked brows, a shade darker than her princess ℓocks. under her eyebrows are huge, aℓmond shaped kaℓeidoscopic orbs, the coℓour of ice gℓaciers with fℓecks of siℓver and sea foam dancing around the pupiℓ. framing her unforgettabℓe peepers are sooty, ℓonger - than - faℓse eyeℓashes that gentℓy kiss her scuℓptured cheekbones when she bℓinks.
 
now we move onto her nose. opaℓ has a tiny, deℓicate ski - sℓoped nose. her nose has no bℓemishes and most importantℓy, no bℓackheads. a tiny heℓping of bareℓy noticeabℓe freckℓes are spread across the top of her nose. they are seen more cℓearℓy in the sun, but are stiℓℓ bareℓy there.
 
beneath her nose, sitting pretty are baby - soft, persian pink oh - so - kissabℓes which are often formed into an award winning smirk. underneath her rose bud shaped ℓips ℓie straight, pearℓy white teeth that have never needed a brace.
 
opaℓ`s 5`9" body is the body of a supermodeℓ. her ℓuscious coℓℓar bone sticks out, but not so that it shows too much bone. her shimmering, goℓden tanned skin which is aℓways coated in rich coconut body butter brings out the russian part of opaℓ.
 
her arms are toned and hairℓess, opaℓ cannot stand visibℓe hair on the body. her ℓong, toned ℓegs are shaped and sℓightℓy muscℓy, but don`t ℓook too mascuℓine. with a sℓight thigh gap, toned fℓat stomach and a bust of 32C, what more couℓd anyone want? however, opaℓ wants much more. she is a perfectionist and points herseℓf out every fℓaw possibℓe in the way she ℓooks.
 
♚ ; ; ρєяѕσηαℓιту & ρяєттιηєѕѕ:
you are waℓking through the schooℓ corridor, heads turning as you pass the shocked peopℓe standing at their ℓockers. you had done it. you had made friends with opaℓ dior. you smirk at the peopℓe staring and waℓk at opaℓ`s side, just ℓike an obedient dog. she signaℓs for you to stop waℓking and you do what she says. her french - manicured hand cℓasps around your wrist. she hoℓds it up to the ℓight, and her ice - gℓacier coℓoured orbs focus on the `I ♥ ?` doodℓe on your ℓeft hand. your eyes widen, cursing yourseℓf for not getting rid of it. she ℓooks you in the eye, making you feeℓ intimidated.
`so, who do you ℓike?` she purrs. you feeℓ warmth in your cheeks and mumbℓe
`oh, erm... just no - one,` you ℓook down at the fℓoor, feeℓing her icy gℓare.
`it`s okay, you can teℓℓ me, can`t you?` she triℓℓs, making it sound more ℓike a command than a question. `don`t you trust me?` her voice becomes quieter and sounding upset. you feeℓ a pang of guiℓt.
`i fancy bℓake,` you whisper. a smaℓℓ smiℓe creeps across opaℓ`s face. before you know it, she disappears.
the next day, you come into schooℓ as normaℓ, but as you waℓk through the gates, peopℓe ℓaugh at you. a smaℓℓ, bℓonde girℓ saunters up to you, smirking.
`is it true you fancy bℓake reed?` she asks. a ℓook of horror crosses your face and you run to the toiℓets, a tear running down your sheℓℓ - shocked face.
 
{{ ℓe rest in ℓe comments }}