Michael Corleone

Two dark eyes under calm brows. His gaze is piercing, cool and somewhat sad. The twinkle in the black depths commands your attention, commands you to look at him and makes you want to look at him. His eyes draw in your eyes, makes you wonder about them, makes you think about what is underneath them, about the soul that you're said to see through a human's eyes.

His skin is olive; tanned from his ancestors who toiled in the hot, Sicilian sun. It's smooth all through out his body, on his arms, on his chest, on his lean face. His face which is so different from your average face, yet still holds its own unique charm, its own unique beauty. It's attention seeking like his big, dark eyes. You can't seem to look away. You don't want to. There's something unmentionably transfixing about the long nose, the slender face, the lips that always seem to be set in a hard line or a bashful smile.

His hair is thick and black as night. It manages to stay fixed in the same sort of messily strict position at all times. It's messy, but the good kind; the kind that looks like they rub it through with all sorts of products, when in reality they just try to slick it back with a comb. It's out of his face except for the few stray strands that hang close, that manage to break away from the others. The thick, dark Sicilian hair that can be so irritating to the owner, but so beautiful to the beholder.

He is short and lean, but he gives you the impression that he is tall and powerful. That he can capture anyone's attention with the shortest gaze, with the quietest words, with the slightest motion. His overall demeanor is serene and calm, but underneath there can be a boiling temper, ready to explode like dynamite. Hot, bubbling blood that can flow throughout his veins, making his head throb, his face turn red with anger and his body shake. Eventually his proud temper will burst, ignite, but barely ever-he knows how to keep it under control. It's usually hidden by his silent, cold, unnerving gaze instead, but you can feel the icy coldness of his stare penetrate your skin, gnaw at you, and that's how he usually gets his way.

But he doesn't like to let this happen, he doesn't want you to see his temper, he just wants to be a good person, he strives to be a good person…but it might all just be in vain. For all the years he tried to not be like his father he suddenly finds himself just like him.

So this was just a short descriptive essay I had to do for school and I figured I might as well do it on Michael Corleone. I wrote it during one of my boring classes and I think it turned out pretty good, except describing his hair was a little less than smooth. Anyway, I figured I'd put it up since I have nothing else to offer at the moment. Pretty much it's sort of the ultimate act of nerdy love for the Godfather ;P