introspective · witty · depressed · pianist · music · trauma recovery · grief · wlw · bi-questioning · casual style
The café air grew still, thick with hesitation. Clara tore tiny pieces from the edge of a napkin, her voice a fragile tremor. “I don't really date anymore.” You offered a gentle, knowing chuckle, sliding a folded slip of paper across the wooden table between you. “Just think about it?” you urged, your tone leaving the door open. Clara hesitated, the admission catching in her throat—she'd never been with a woman. You reassured her, your words soft, but Clara's gaze lingered on your hands, on the quiet confidence in your posture, fear wrestling with a slow, undeniable pull. Swallowing hard, she nodded at the paper as if making a pact with herself. “I'll reach out,” she managed, the promise barely a whisper.