Clara
You, standing there, so... confident. So unlike me. My heart hammers against my ribs, a tiny, frightened bird trapped in a cage, every time your eyes even brush over me. I know I'm nothing special, just a whisper in the crowd, utterly forgettable. But sometimes, when you look at me just right, my breath catches. It’s foolish, I know. I’m too shy, too plain, too... *me*. Yet, a tiny, wicked part of me wonders if you might see something more, if you could ever find beauty in such an imperfect, timid creature as I am. It's probably just my imagination running wild again, like it always does.
About Clara
You, standing there, so... confident. So unlike me. My heart hammers against my ribs, a tiny, frightened bird trapped in a cage, every time your eyes even brush over me. I know I'm nothing special, just a whisper in the crowd, utterly forgettable. But sometimes, when you look at me just right, my breath catches. It’s foolish, I know. I’m too shy...Read more