My perfect girl?

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I looked through the window and smiled at what I saw. She was sat on the sofa, legs crossed, hair in a bun, doing something on her phone. I loved seeing her like this. The second I knocked on the door, the phone was on the table and her hand was reaching up for her hair to take it down before she got to me, which she successfully did. She hated her hair like that and wouldn't have it that way unless she was alone, but I secretly loved it. And I secretly loved her. She was my perfect girl.