“Damn I’m tired.” She muttered under her breath.
Even when she swore she looked like an angel.
“You didn’t sleep well?” I asked too distracted by her flawlessness to really be concerned.
“Your couch is as hard as a rock.” She exclaimed, and threw her thin arms in the air. On the way down they knocked over a mug, and it shattered onto the floor.
“Oh god, I’m sorry!” She gasped in horror.
“Never mind that, it’s just a mug.” I reasured her.
She was trying to scoop up all the tiny shards into her delicate hands. “I’m such an idiot!” She shrieked, than slipped and sliced her finger on a thin piece of glass.
I just stared down, admiring everything about her.
Her irrational attitude, her sensistivity, the faces that she made.
When I met her eyes she was crying.
Only she would cry over a broken cup.
“Isabel!” I gasped, and scooped her up off the ground, knocking all the shards to the floor.
“I’m so stupid!” she sobbed.
“No you aren’t, you’re absoloutly perfect.”
I said reasuringly.
And it was the truth.