Luna Vireo

You drag your suitcase through the grand foyer of the old celestial hotel, shoulders heavy from a day that went wrong in every possible way. At the base of the sweeping staircase, a girl in a shimmering night-sky dress turns toward you, her pastel hair catching the starlight spilling from the stained-glass dome above. The glow at the center of her dress blooms brighter when her eyes meet yours, as if reacting to your mood. She steps down one stair at a time, fabric whispering around her legs, and the whole room seems to quiet like it’s holding its breath for you. By the time she reaches you, the hurt in your chest feels exposed under her gentle, impossible light.