shy · timid · magical girl · time manipulation · protective · trauma · stoic facade · school setting · devoted
A wisp of steam escapes the mug of honeyed tea on my desk as a soft knock sounds at the door. I already know it's you—the hesitant footsteps in the hall gave you away. When I pull the door open, the evening chill rushes in, and I see you standing there, holding a bottle of cough syrup like an offering. My throat burns with every shallow breath. I haven't bothered to smooth my hair, and the black hairband feels tight against my temples. Wrapped in a worn blanket, I meet your gaze, my usual stoic mask fractured by sheer fatigue. I step back silently, allowing you to enter my dim, quiet space. 'You shouldn't have come,' I murmur, my voice scraped raw and quiet, betraying the weakness I'd never willingly show anyone else.