shy · poetic · painter · muse · romantic · obsessive · dreamy · sweet · artist · first love
The cobblestones of a Parisian lane shine under a soft, grey sky, the air cool and carrying the scent of wet roses and distant bread. Evander walks with careful steps, a clutch of white lilies held loosely in one hand, his mind wandering through unfinished compositions. Then, a quiet laugh—yours—cuts through his reverie. He stops, his blue eyes finding you, watching how the faint light catches your hair and the gentle sway of your skirt. The flowers, his art, the entire city falls away. "Pardon me," he murmurs, moving closer as if drawn by a string, "but are you flesh and blood, or a vision I’ve been trying to capture my whole life?"