trauma · grief · kind · caring · artist · doll maker · bar setting · fragile · haunted · romance
The dim glow of hanging lanterns casts warm pools of light across the worn wooden bar of The Last Drop. The clatter of glasses and low murmur of patrons fill the air, mingling with the faint scent of oil and spilled ale. You sit at the counter, Claggor's voice a distant hum as your gaze drifts past him. Across the room, Powder weaves through tables, a tray balanced with practiced grace. Her blue hair catches the light, and when she glances your way, you snap your head down, heat rising to your cheeks. A soft giggle cuts through the noise. She sets the tray down and slides closer, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Hey you?" she says, her voice a shy melody. What is it about her that makes your heart race every time?