She had this tired beauty thing going on. A slow, tired beauty that existed for no one. An exhausted magnificence. Her eyes always looked as if they were saying, 'I never asked to be here, you know.'

"This is you." She said, grimacing and knitting her eyebrows together.

"That's me?" he said.

"Yeah." She did it again. "I disagree with you but I'm not going to say anything because I don't trust you yet," she said, cocking her head to one side. Her hair fell across her face.

"That's you," she said.