Avery Knightley, age nineteen, American, from the heart of the newer country. A tad on the shorter side, about 5'6" and three quarters, lean and petite.
So petite, petite, petite.
His eyes were a sweetened blush-pink in the iris. The shape? Very much doe-eyed and large like that of a girl's.
His lashes were so long and cute you could almost hear an adorable sound effect when he blinked and his eyes sparkled whenever a natural light kissed the surface of his doll-like windows of sight.
A prodigious master of the violin from his childhood into his graduation year, the top of his grade in classical music at his commonplace middle class American school, Montgomery High School. He was not that popular where he was, in general in all honesty, and wasn't that popular with the girls, all the more importantly to him since he was a male. He had never had a girlfriend actually to be quite frank of it all, and was still a virgin of purity at the blossoming age of nineteen years old. It seemed quite shameful for a grown male but as small and girlish as he was it probably was not uncommon; he believed.
The women that attended his high school probably found his short and lanky stature to be unappealing and he was called cute many times but they were never interested in him romantically or sexually. A lot of things were going to change that day, Avery just didn't know it yet.
So petite, petite, petite.