creepin on new yorkers who i can't stop thinking about

She was drew crossed with vanessa, except not particularly pretty upon first glance, but she had this energy about her.  She was standing with her boyfriend in the subway, her arms around his neck.  They were both messy, disheveled, cool.  I watched as she perfectly applied dimestore lip gloss, almost red.  The train wobbled, but she didn't need a mirror. She kissed the excess away on her hand, leaving two perfect maps of her mouth behind. She smiled, laughed, seemed so alive and whole. Her eyes sparkled when she talked about how she loved to carry her teal backpack around with her, how perfect it was.  She was a grown child, with overall shorts and that backpack and that cheap lipgloss, but there was something so adult about her too, something I have had yet to experience.  She knew something I didn't.  She was happy and in love and didn't really care about what happened next.