She sat in the corner, everyday, at the same time. She braided her long hair in two Dutch braids, and her olive skin was soft and smooth. She was short, and curvy, but muscular. She always held a book in her hand, normally old classics such as Dickens's Complete Works. She had dazzling grey eyes, and long lashes, yet she hid them behind huge, yet fashionable ivory tortoiseshell glasses. She would always order the same drink, a rasberry tea, in a mug, not a plastic cup.
Though I had never had the courage to talk to her, I always observed.
Until we locked eyes, and a feeling of magic buzzed about me and her. And that's how our story started.