The brown haired girl is beautiful. She sits at the cafe table behind him, her back to his back, the fabric on her back less than a hairs width away.
The brown haired girl is beautiful, even though he's only seen her back. Her skirt seems to be made of feathers and stars, tightly wrapping around her thighs like a dusty shawl, a band of the universe, and her wine red boots caressed her calf, stopping below a short red dash- a scar that looks more like an ink stain from a teachers pen.
"Hey" (turn around, turn around, damn it)
Her face is not what he expected. Full, full lips, rosy cheeks, immaculate fingernails that lead to her slender and thin hand, dimples, deep, bottomless, bone-deep brown eyes that seemed to involuntarily shine back at him with something blue that could hold the entire gravity of the universe in them. The sort of immaculate feature that could be easily transformed into beauty and for an insane second he wondered what a child of their genetics would have looked like. Oh lord. His eyes meet hers (oh, those eyes... he could live in those eyes.)
"What's your name?"
He watches as she flounders, though it's not really floundering with her elegance, and he wonders if she even realizes shes gnawing her lips. The letters that are caught between her teeth get pushed down by something (shame?) as she evaded his question, smoked away his inquires with a blink, couldn't, wouldn't seem to say her name. She blinked. And then blinked again. she stands, and dashed away with enough mystery to last a life time. A little while later, one of his friends comes up to ask him what he's staring at, but he hardly knows.