Justin noticed Emily before she passed through the crowd on the dance floor. The lavender top of her head flickered between the blurred outlines of other people's bodies, like the only beacon of life in a sea of soulless ghosts.
Evans did not immediately notice Miller following the girl. For him, he was the same colorless object as those around him.
Emily Hayes stood out from others not only with her bright hair color. Her outfit was too much of a contrast to this color and this place. Frankly puritanical.
Ankle-length, loose-fitting long skirt that hid perfectly slender and long legs. Justin memorized their every beckoning curve when she was wearing jeans at rehearsals.
A flat stomach and neat firm breasts were hidden under the same shapeless sweater of a dirty gray color. Where did she get it from? Borrowed from her grandmother, probably?
Her soft, long hair was pulled back into a simple, modest braid. A kind of exemplary novice nunnery.
