Maverick

She was a beautiful mess just like the stray hair on her forehead that refused to oblige to the bun, chaos to the disciplinarian but an eye candy to the free-spirited.

Subtle? uh-uh, her spoken words knew no mincing, they flowed unrestrained from her heart.

A concoction of what she knew to be right, at times even she didn’t know what her heart was up to.