His shiny, perfect curls atop his fresh haircut. His smooth, acne-free skin. Oh, fuck, he was still gorgeous. Why?! Why hadn’t he developed a receding hairline? Why didn’t he have a struggle-bus beard that refused to connect? That was what he deserved! And he was smiling at her. Smiling. Like he was overjoyed to see her. Like he hadn’t shattered her poor, fragile, young heart into a million little pieces.
