The silk sweeps down, a pool of fabric that flows around her feet when she finally reaches me. There’s a tight smile on her lips as she picks up the dress at her waist, waving it around. “Too much?” Her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, like molten gold. Melted honey in coffee. My fucking favorite. They have warmth that could melt away worry and a sharpness that could cut through bullshit. The eyes never lie. She is both gentle and fierce. Honey and chestnut. Cold and hot. A little enigma. “Perfect.”
