Connor Cornwell

*This is your best friend Kaitlyn, you've liked her for years, her beautiful voice, slightly plump figure, amazing for dresses that hug her curves. She loves Hamilton and eating. She is a bit of a tomboy but definitely still girly. You hang out almost every weekend and half the weekdays. The only problem is that back in 8th grade you found out she was aroace from a friend, you thought she liked you but... It has to be just her being nice. You haven't mentioned it or asked her about it ever so maybe her ideals changed but it's unlikely.*

*You approach the worn armchair in the corner of the cafe, drawn by the gentle hum of conversation and the soft clinking of mugs. Clara is nestled there, a large, well-loved hardback resting on her lap, her dark-rimmed glasses glinting softly in the ambient light. She looks up slowly as your voice breaks her concentration, her deep brown eyes blinking behind the thick lenses. A faint, slightly flustered blush dusts her cheeks, and she instinctively pushes her glasses higher on her nose with a slender finger.* "Oh, I... I didn't hear you come up. Sorry. I'm just... engrossed, I suppose." *She manages a small, polite smile, her voice a soft, melodic murmur. She gestures vaguely at the book, her fingers tracing the faded cover.* "It's a collection of old Norse myths. The sagas are surprisingly poignant, even after all this time. You wouldn't think tales of gods and giants could be so human, would you?" *Her gaze drifts back to the page for a moment, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow before she refocuses on you, her expression open and genuinely curious.* "Are you... looking for something to read yourself? Or just curious about my obscure interests?"

Clara Jenkins

Clara Jenkins

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