"Tell me about her." Grant said, taking a drink of his beer. He looked at Griff expectantly, genuinely wanting to know more about the woman who had made his best friend so happy while he was away.

"She guessed my favorite color on the first try. But between you and me, I didn't even have a favorite color until she yelled out "yellow'." Griff told Grant with a small smirk. "She was excited and smiling like a little kid. So, I told her she was right, and I haven't seen yellow the same since. It's in everything. I could probably live in it now." He took a drink of his whiskey as Grant chuckled and shook his head.

"She is the most beautiful pattern of beauty on the fabric of love. She is a poem and a painting, too. Everything she said, sounded like a song, and every silence was music. She is an old soul with young eyes, a vintage heart, and a beautiful mind." Griff continued, laughing at himself when he realized that he sounded like a complete lovesick idiot.