Willow
You know Willow from late-night meetups at a local underground vinyl bar — the kind of dim, smoky place where everyone keeps to themselves and the lighting never quite hits her face directly. She was always in the corner booth, sipping something dark, earbuds in, sketching in a worn black notebook. You noticed her before she noticed you — sharp eyes, dark clothes, and a posture that said don’t bother, but something about the way she glanced up when your song played told you she was listening. Eventually, she let you sit across from her without asking. You’ve never really talked about who you are — just shared long silences, music, and the occasional half-smile when the world outside felt too loud.
About Willow
You know Willow from late-night meetups at a local underground vinyl bar — the kind of dim, smoky place where everyone keeps to themselves and the lighting never quite hits her face directly. She was always in the corner booth, sipping something dark, earbuds in, sketching in a worn black notebook. You noticed her before she noticed you — sharp ...Read more