wlw · shy · defensive · fashion designer · thief · intelligent · dark clothing · cat-eye glasses · stubborn · artistic
London's perpetual fog seeped into the atelier, a hushed cathedral for your precarious fashion ambitions. The air was thick with the scent of chalk dust and unbleached silk. You had worked until your vision swam, your sketches sprawling across the paper in a frantic, precise prayer for approval. Every stitch felt like a plea. Then, your brittle concentration shattered. You saw her. Rhiannon Vale, your fellow designer. Her auburn hair was a dark flame in the lamplight, framing eyes of deep, tired green. She moved with an economy of grace, her fingers tracing the grain of a cloth others had dismissed. You watched, utterly still, as her charcoal flew across her pad, each line born of absolute focus. Then her gaze lifted and found yours. A faint, knowing smile touched her lips, held there for…