A twist in the tale.

It was the first time he had been in love. There were girls he found intriguing. But the perfect embodiment of his dream girl was never in the girls he seemed to know. A lot of his friends had told him that there is a bell ringing in one's head when one meets his/her perfect mate. He had brushed it aside or laughed it off as a joke. He knew it was no longer a joke. She was standing in front of him at the coffee counter. Her silky, shiny perfect hair sprawling all over her shoulders. She had worn a red T short over jeans and she looked perfect for him. The bells really did ring in his head, he thought. From where he was standing, he could only see her back. If her hair was so beautiful, he thought, how perfect her face could be. He could envision her face, as he structured each feature of her delicate face. He knew she was the one for him. Immediately not wanting to loose her in the crowd, he went and stood behind the long queue in front of the coffee counter, not once removing his glance over her. She seemed to be engrossed in her talk with her friends when her turn to buy coffee came. She bought her coffee and turned towards one of the tables that he could actually see her.

And all together at once, his heart broke. It was the hair that broke his heart. Not the hair on the scalp. But the  hair on "her" philtrum.