Their hair, bouncing softly from side to side as they laugh. A tinkling, breathy laugh, so different from my own bray. Everyone looks at her, rapt, as if a ray of sunshine itself shone amongst them.

She’s unaware of the attention - her own focus is on the person telling a mediocre story of college days long since passed. Another gift of hers; when you speak, she makes you feel as if she’s never heard anything more interesting, as if you’re the most important person in the world.

For a brief moment, she glances at me. The light in her eye could be shining just for me. Her smile is broad, as if the sight of me alone cheers her. I’m blinded by the glow, uncomfortably averting my gaze.

She’s otherworldly, a category entirely of her own. Like no one and nothing else I’ve ever met, and I find myself with a fierce passion to protect her, shield her from anything less savory in the world.

An angel.