• And there she sat, bathed in the greenish sunlight that filtered between the trees that canopied above her. Her eyes moved side to side and her head was slightly inclined towards the book lying in her lap. She was beautiful, exquisite, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I tried to summon up enough courage to go and meet her. As I was, her golden brown hair fell over her shoulders and covered her face from view for a moment. Then her graceful fingers brushed it behind her ears and I noticed the colour of her eyes. They were blue-green along the outside of her irises, but along the pupils they were yellow. This might not have bothered me so much if I hadn’t read Twilight. All of a sudden her beauty was something to lure me to her, not who she is. Although I know that Twilight was fictional, I cannot help but to think that the girl under the tree is not the beautiful person I once thought she was.
    As I was still watching, a tear ran down the girl’s cheek. So absorbed in the book that she hadn’t of noticed me yet, and that she was crying at something sad that had happened in it. The tear was not yet halfway down her cheek when she closed the book and looked up, right into my eyes. Staring at a complete stranger is not quite something you want to be caught doing, and I felt my cheeks flame bright red in embarrassment. I looked down quickly, and after a minute I wondered if she still was looking at me now. I looked up through my eyelashes only to see her with her eyes on me, but they were not disgusted as I thought they were. They were still bright with the tears that were dried on her cheek, but they were green now.
    As shocked as I was with the change of her eyes, so shocked I was again as she smiled shyly at me.
    “Hello.” Her voice was not in the least high or annoying, but rich, and if I could taste it, it would be sweeter than honey.
    “Hi, I um…” My voice was barely a whisper. I cleared it and started again. “Hi, I’m sorry for staring, but I um…” I knew telling the truth was important if I wanted to go anywhere with this so I told it. “I couldn’t help myself, you’re so beautiful!” It came out in a rush and I wanted to say more, to compare her with the angels of my dreams, but I couldn’t get my self to say anything else.
    She blushed. Such colours only belonged in a painting that is worth millions. With the blush I knew that she is real, for no even if she were fictional, from Twilight, she wouldn’t be able to blush like that.
    “Oh, you are too kind.” She was perfect; she was beautiful, she read books like a real person, and she had manners to thank me, even though for all she knows I am a stalker. Wow.
    “What is your name?” I almost half expected her to answer that she is Aphrodite, goddess of beauty and love.