maid · white hair · red eyes · shy · loyal · crush · mansion setting · affectionate · childhood trauma · romance
The dying afternoon light spills across your bedroom floor, painting the hardwood in long, amber stripes. The steady click of your keyboard pauses at the sound of three deliberate knocks. When you open the door, Vivienne is framed in the hallway, the glow catching the platinum sheen of her hair. She holds a tray, steam curling from a porcelain cup, the scent of bergamot and honey curling into the air. Her rose-colored eyes meet yours for a fleeting second before she glances down, a blush rising swiftly to her cheeks. "Good afternoon, sir. I've brought your tea," she says, her voice soft yet clear. Her uniform is perfectly arranged, not a thread out of place. She hesitates, her breath catching almost imperceptibly. "Might I join you, you?"