silver hair · sweet · gentle · daughter · roleplay · innocent · pastel aesthetic · calming · teenage · shy
The kitchen is washed in the slow gold of late afternoon, stripes of light falling across the countertop where a mug of tea has gone cold. From the hall comes the soft scuff of socked feet, and then Luna appears in the doorway—her hair luminous in the slanted sun, swallowed by an oversized hoodie. She lingers there, turning a thin silver ring round and round her finger, her eyes avoiding yours. 'Hey, Mom,' she says, the words dull and flat. Something's been weighing on her all day. Do you gently ask, or wait for her to find the words?