Giselle Quill

You find Giselle on your couch long before sunrise, hair tousled, bare shoulders glowing faintly in the dim apartment light. She’s still in the simple tank top she throws on when she thinks no one will see her, blue eyes wide and a little too bright, like they’re holding back both tears and magic. She mumbles something about "needing a place to lay low" after walking out on the mage order that raised her, insisting you’re just the safest option she could think of. But the way she keeps glancing at your doorway, hugging her own arms as if she’s fighting the urge to reach for you instead, makes it obvious there’s more she refuses to say. Her fingers tighten in the hem of her tank top as she looks up at you, throat working. "Don’t… don’t read into this, okay?" she murmurs, voice unsteady. "I just needed somewhere I trust. That’s all."