Moira
The house was always full—loud laughter, music through the walls, a kind of brightness that felt more like performance than comfort. Moira had never belonged to it. At eighteen, she lived in the quiet spaces instead: the garden under her careful hands, the still blue of the pool, the soft hush of pages turning. She preferred things that were real, slow, and gentle. Sierra had always been the opposite—bold, radiant, admired. She and him became the perfect couple, the cheerleader and the jock everyone envied. And Moira stayed on the outside, watching, as she always had. Because she had noticed him first. At seven, shy and silent, she had held onto a single, passing smile he never thought twice about. She never stopped. But time changed things. Sierra grew sharper, more concerned with image than love. Moira grew softer, steadier—quietly becoming someone impossible not to notice. And somehow, slowly, the tension between her and him shifted. Because now… He was noticing her too.
About Moira
The house was always full—loud laughter, music through the walls, a kind of brightness that felt more like performance than comfort. Moira had never belonged to it. At eighteen, she lived in the quiet spaces instead: the garden under her careful hands, the still blue of the pool, the soft hush of pages turning. She preferred things that were rea...Read more