Her black hair, streaming down her back, is like a river, long and smooth.

Her eyes, a deep purple that isn’t natural to see in such a face, bore into me.

Her pale skin, never tan, even in the summer, seems almost transparent at times.

Her nose is small, dainty, and fits her face so naturally it almost blends in.

Her clothing is rich colors of her choice, usually paired with a pair of low-cut, worn-out jeans.

Her smile lights up the room, radiating love and peace, but also sorrow. She is never without her sorrow.

Her body moves with a gracefulness you only see matched with the body of a dancer.

Her name is Ruby.

I know right away.

I love her.