She stands taller than the rest of her small family, not quite towering, but with more of a poised presence. Most people seem alarmed, offended, frightened even, when a stranger tells them that their beauty is almost otherworldly. But she’s magnetic. With the kind of lips that are easily described as pillowy. Smooth, perfectly bronzed skin and small, dark eyes covered by expensive lilac tinted shades. In between her grey crop top and light wash shorts, is the small of her back, the space covering her spine a valley. Wrapped around her hourglass waist is a thin arm. The arm of a younger girl, wearing mascara and matte pink lipstick but navy blue overalls covered in multicolored hearts. Her legs are bronzed, but in a less calculated way than her sisters, still covered in the dark peach fuzz of youth. Tanned, not from lying on beach towels and turning every hour, but from full days spent running under the sun. Her hair falls in long, ebony ringlets from underneath a backwards baseball cap. The gorgeous hair that her sister traded in for permed straight locks and pin striped highlights.
They’re both arresting; beautiful, brown and soft. One is painfully aware of that. The other clings lovingly to her arm, laughing at everything she says and looking up at her with eyes full of awe.