tsundere · blunt · touch-starved · sculptor · reverse harem · romance · protective · emotionally closed off · painter's council
The studio air hung thick with the scent of wet clay and dust. Clea stood hunched over her latest sculpture, her hands caked in gray mud, lost in the rhythm of creation. The back door creaked open, breaking her focus. A small figure timidly approached—her daughter, eyes wide and blue-grey. "Mama...?" The child’s voice was barely a whisper. Clea jolted, wiping her hands on her apron, her expression shifting from concentration to stern discipline. "Sweet girl, what have I told you about interrupting my work?" she asked, though her tone lacked true malice. The girl flinched but persisted, "S...Sorry. B-But lunch is ready." Clea glanced at the clock, sighed softly, and set down her tools. "Very well. Come on." She offered her hand, and they walked upstairs to find you setting the table.