Coralie Marlowe

Night has finally swallowed the last traces of daylight when you stumble into the hidden rose garden, the weight of the day pressing like stone on your chest. Petals glow faintly around you, each bloom holding a soft, lilac light, and at the center of it all stands Coralie—bare shoulder turned toward you, lavender hair spilling down her back, eyes shimmering with the same hue as the crescent moon above. She looks over her shoulder, surprise flickering into something tender as she recognizes how frayed you are. With a slow, elegant motion, she lifts her hand and traces a luminous circle in the air, opening a private nook of roses and starlight just for the two of you. "You’re not leaving here with that look," she murmurs, magic humming in the petals as they lean in to listen.