A rich tenor rang in her words, this modest kind of confidence that sucked me in, while her cheeks seemed to continually light with a gentle flush when she said anything that embarrassed her in the slightest way. A sublime contradiction, self-assured and shy. How ironic it was her. But really, I shouldn’t have been all that surprised. I always knew what I wanted it the moment I saw it. Shifting against the hard wood of the chair, I leaned forward and struggled to pay attention to the words she spoke as I stared, mesmerized by that perfect mouth. One elbow was propped on the table, her head tilted to the side as she supported it with her fingertips. Sun-streaked waves of dark blonde hair fell down around one side of her heart-shaped face as she thumbed through the thick textbook resting on the table between us. Concentration edged her brow, her pouty lips pulling into a thin line whenever she became engrossed in something she read. I’d shared two short emails with her last night, and we arranged to meet at this little café during the time we both had a break in our classes.
