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Summary
“I’m Mari,” she said.
She’s skinny, and pale. It’s the two things keeping her from being a conventional beauty - her cheeks a little too sallow, her skin a few shades too unhealthy, her eyes a little too caved-in.
Hero hardly notices, though - because her smile lights up her features, fills out her expression like sunlight breaking through the ice frosting over the surface of a lake.
“I’ve never written any poetry,” she confesses, a little self-effacing lilt to her smile. Like a silent can you believe that?
She makes one of the best first impressions Hero’s ever seen.
(Hero and Mari meet in a poetry club.)