Bedhead hair is the best look, an inferno of dreaded curls knotted and frazzled on high. Shuffling into the kitchen she finds her way to the coffee *** before any kind of greeting dares escape her sleepy smile. With freckles resembling a ******* masterpiece my eyes grow green(er) with envy; that gene never dominated with me. "So what time did you get in last night?" she asks with a wide grin.