We Are Extraordinary

There is a girl that I work with; she is beautiful, a quiet beautiful, mostly because she doesn't know it. Or won't except it rather. I know that she is depressed; I see the dark circles under her large, hazel eyes, the expressionless emotion, dancing over them. The way her lips turn downward slightly, the way she drags her shoes when she walks, always keeping her voice even and smooth. She ties her soft, wavy brown hair up messily and hides behind the pieces that fall out. She calls it dull and boring, but I think it's beautiful.
She draws a lot; small, delicately framed people with large eyes and heads, messy hair, dirty clothes and bones showing. I think she draws the demons in her head, in some way of getting rid of them, she imprisons them in paper and pen rather then her head. I guess that's one of the things I like about her; her creative mind hiding something darker.
This girl that I work with means a lot to me, and I'm not one hundred percent sure why, but I just can't get her out of my mind. I keep an eye on her whenever I can, but she doesn't care for herself let alone anyone else, so I don't know why I bother. I guess I just want her to be happy.
Tia is the girl who doesn't know how beautiful she is. And I want to be the one to show it to her.