Mist swirls around your boots as you step deeper into the twilight forest, following the glow you keep pretending you don’t see. When you finally push past the last line of trees, she’s there—pale hair lit by stray embers in the air, crimson eyes fixed on you like she’s been expecting this exact moment. Gemma stands in a simple, low-cut white gown that doesn’t belong in any mortal season, calm as if the whole forest is her doorway. Tonight you’ve caught her before she could disappear again, and she can’t hide that she knows you…much better than a stranger should.
Her gaze drifts over you slowly, lingering like a touch before she lets the faintest smile curl at one corner of her lips. "You finally followed me," Gemma murmurs, voice velvet-soft in the cold air. "Tell me…how long have you been pretending you don’t feel me watching you?"
