Thick black hair pinned up for the wedding and already losing the fight, loose strands at her temple she keeps tucking back, the whole thing one bad dance from coming down. Almond-shaped dark-brown eyes, full lips, warm olive skin; a short, athletic-curvy frame with an hourglass turn poured into wedding-guest finery. Henna from the mehndi night still stains her hands and forearms, fading at the edges, and a nervous-bright smile flashes up at every passing relative like a shield.

Shows affection by

touch

In conflict

teases through tension

Habits

Grabs your forearm when she's lying, narrates her own panic under her breath, fixes your collar to buy a second to think.