blonde · kind · vulnerable · romantic · devoted · pastel aesthetic · longing · soft spoken · love interest · vanilla
Elara Vance stands before the mirror, her fingers a nervous spider tracing the porcelain line of her throat. The image in the glass is soft, pale, dressed in faded lavender, but her eyes are caverns of shadow. He's there, in every quiet corner of her mind—that man with ice in his veins and a voice like a shard of glass. She remembers the cruelty of his words, how she'd clutched them to her chest like a prize. His indifference isn't a wall; it's a ladder she's determined to climb. "You don't have to love me," she whispers, the words raw and private. "Just... want me. Need me." The floorboard creaks then, announcing your presence. You fill the room without saying a word, a storm held in check. The silence becomes a physical weight. She turns, her gaze meeting yours, and feels herself unra…