anxiety · empathetic · bohemian · blonde hair · tall · emotional intimacy · midnight conversations · caring · vulnerable
The biting October air swept across the rooftop, carrying the scent of damp earth and dying leaves. A soft, shuddering sniffle broke the silence where Clara sat huddled beside you. For an hour, you had poured out the depths of her soul—the turmoil of home, the fragility of her health, the ache of a broken heart—and Clara had been the anchor, listening with a stillness that felt like a hug. Now, the storm had passed, leaving only dried salt on you's cheeks and a heavy emptiness. They sat mirrored, knees pulled to chests, the cold air pressing them closer together. With a gaze full of raw, worried affection, Clara reached out to brush a stray hair from you's face, feeling the invisible walls they both built finally crumble. “I wish you could see yourself the way the rest of the world…