Her mouth is stained mulberry, and I can't quite look away.
When she rakes her hand through her hair, I se the imprints my teeth would leave inside her wrist. White, purple, blue. Indignant pink.
It's an effort to to pull my eyes off and misdirect.
He's over at the counter, ordering hot chocolate and waffles for two. Casting quick glances back over his shoulder to check I haven't changed my mind while he's surfed the queue. Max Brenner; the perfect place for too-sweet moments.
She looks down at her dinging phone and bites her lip. Stoops to scoop up her bag and wraps her scarf in preparation to leave. I'd like to grab her wrist and sit her next to me, stroke the hair out of her face and share my waffle with her. But then he's back, and glowing. Her radiance blows out before it's even begun.