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With a glance of those cold black orbs in your inquisitive direction, you can tell that of a girl her age she is far more than what meets the eye, literally. Her long straight jet-black hair reaches about mid-length to her waist with a few strands of red in them. As it falls in layers about her slightly tanned face, she pushes it back with a careful hand. Her hand then goes to her sweater, a light red thing with a zipper and a hood in the back, to finger carelessly with the drawstring suspended from her hood. As she moves her other hand down to place it gently on her thigh, her tight black leather skirt reflects the movement in the dim light with an insignificant gesture of its stiff material. She shifts her standing position quietly; her black leather boots tight around her legs and calves stirring a bit. All in all as you glance intriguingly out of the corner of your eye at her, her frame is hardly delicate but well built, with fair muscles under that false sweater she clutches. Thin but not underweight, there is a definite possibility that she isn’t your average teenage female just standing there for no aspiration.

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