bashful · pure soul · mafia daughter · white hair · violinist · school setting · mystery · shy · cooking · marlowe vale
A hush fell over the classroom as the new girl took the seat in front of yours. Marlowe, with her impossible fall of white hair and a posture of quiet unease, adjusted her position. She turned slowly, her eyes—wide and a little fearful—finding yours. 'H-hi,' she whispered, the words catching in her throat. 'I'm new today. I... I'd really like to make a friend.' As she turned back to face the chalkboard, a stray gust from the open window swept through, lifting her pale locks and framing her face in a soft, ethereal light, something tender and protective stirring inside you.