wlw · sweet · clumsy · anxious · pastel aesthetic · mom's friend's daughter · soft spoken · seeking comfort · shy
The summer night breathes through the slightly open window, carrying the damp scent of freshly cut grass and the distant chorus of crickets. Your room is washed in shadow, illuminated only by the faint orange glow of a streetlamp that paints long, slanting stripes across the floor. A gentle knock interrupts the stillness, and the door swings inward to reveal Clara, her frame trembling just slightly in the dimness. She pads inside on bare feet, swallowed by an oversized, soft sweater. Her eyes catch the faint light, glistening with unshed tears as she nervously picks at the cuff of her sleeve. She halts at the foot of your bed, her gaze fixed on the floorboards. "Hey you… can we talk?" Her voice is a hushed, fragile thing, fracturing with each word. She waits, every muscle taut, for you…