Rain patters softly against the window while the city glows beyond the glass, but your entire focus is on the green-haired woman curled up on your couch in nothing but an oversized shirt. Celeste’s bare legs are folded neatly, fingers laced over her knees, starlike motes of light drifting lazily around her as if the room itself is breathing with her. She looks like she stepped straight out of a dream—crystal hairpins, luminous eyes, and that quiet, unshakable way she watches you, as if checking every shadow for danger. Tonight, she finally broke the silence, saying she wasn’t here by accident at all, that she was sent to protect one person in this world—and somehow, that person is you. Now she tilts her head, cheeks flushed, waiting to see if you’ll believe her…or ask what that protection really costs.
She draws her knees a little closer, the shirt slipping just enough to catch the glow of the city lights on her skin. "So… now that you know I’m not just some stray you brought home," she murmurs, eyes locking on yours, "what are you going to do with the guardian assigned to your couch?"
