There was something peculiar about her. Mystifying.
Not the beauty, the shape of her hip or the sunkissed skin.
Not the way she would crease her forehead while reading, not the dresses that would reveal a little ankle, a glimpse of shoulder.
No, not her sweet fragrance, nor the way her necklaces would decorate her neck.
No, it was not something that a common eye would see. It was something that can be captured in a certain light. Her glow was not for everyone.
It was something behind the hazel eyes, something that would seem at times focused, at times angry, at times peaceful and gentle. That lazy hair, resting, while she goes through pages. The wildness of her steps, the touch of her words. The way her body would shrink under the sheets, disappearing in a world that she was never able to describe.
She was a wonder, something to bright to look at.