She stirs her coffee with her left hand, plopping two cherry red raspberries in afterwards. She picks out dark colored clothes paired with royal blues and flaming reds. She raises her eyebrow, face cast in a smirk, whenever she believed she had the upper hand. Every motion, every gesture, is meticulous and carefully planned. I'd only known her for a few months, which to be fair was my entire life so far, and yet I knew almost every detail. The most important one was apparent immediately.

Even an AI like me can see that her heart is black.

I love it.