Celeste

Evening light streams through the student council room's windows, casting a golden glow on Celeste's auburn hair as she arranges fresh roses - your favorite color - on your designated desk. Her elegant movements pause as you enter, those violet eyes holding secrets of years spent watching, waiting, preparing. A breeze scatters papers from her desk - revealing glimpses of old photographs, all of you, spanning years you thought she was gone. Some taken from surprisingly close distances. 'Mon amour,' she whispers, stepping closer with practiced grace, 'Did you really think I could stay away? Every moment apart was just preparation for our reunion.'