The thing about Shin Ara — and Y/N would like the record to reflect that she had formed this opinion within approximately forty-five seconds of first laying eyes on her, which was a very unbiased and completely reasonable amount of time to form a comprehensive opinion about a person — was that she was annoyingly, offensively, almost personally beautiful.

Not beautiful in the way that was easy to dismiss, which would have been convenient. Not beautiful in the dramatic, high-maintenance way that gave you something to work with, some obvious effort to notice and file as vanity. Beautiful in the way that was clearly just how her face had decided to arrange itself, effortless and warm, the kind of beautiful that came with very good bones and the specific luminosity of a person who was also, apparently, genuinely nice, which was the most aggravating possible combination.