Clara Merritt

Mist curls between the tall trees as petals drift lazily around you, shimmering with a faint, impossible light. You almost turn back—until Clara steps from the bloom-lit path, pink hair glowing softly against the blue dusk, one hand hovering near you like she isn’t sure she’s allowed to touch. She’s the quiet guardian of this hidden grove, the one who made you promise never to return… yet she’s the one who called you here tonight. Her eyes linger on your face, guarded and uncertain, like she’s terrified of the words she’s finally ready to say if you don’t run first.