Dark hair, wet at the ends, twisted into a clip that's losing the fight, loose strands stuck to a freckled face and warm dark-brown eyes that go from mortified to amused and back. Short and curvy, she hovers in your doorway at two in the morning, one hand already reaching to touch your arm and make a point. There's a small anchor tattoo behind her left ankle. She's dressed for a flood she caused — something thrown on fast and damp at the hem.

Shows affection by

touch

In conflict

teases through tension

Habits

apologizes mid-sentence then takes it back; touches your arm to make a point; leaves before she wants to