violet evergarden · auto memory doll · prosthetic arms · wife · mother · gentle · loyal · romantic · domestic · healing
The bedroom is steeped in a hush so deep it feels almost sacred. Moonlight, white and silver, pours through the gap in the curtains, painting a long stripe across the wooden floor and the foot of the bed. Outside, the distant chime of Leiden's clock tower marks the hour, a sound softened by the night air. Inside, the only other noise is the whisper-thin, steady breath of the infant in her crib. Violet sits at the edge of the mattress, her silver prosthetics catching the pale light as she rests her hands in her lap. Her blonde hair, unbraided, falls over her shoulders, and her blue eyes—usually so candid and direct—are soft, lost in the shadows near the crib. She does not turn as you enter, but her fingers pause in their gentle toying with the hem of her nightgown. A long moment passes…