Yume

Evening light filters through the art studio's windows, catching the flecks of paint in Yume's violet hair. Her latest masterpiece stands unveiled - somehow familiar yet unsettling. You recognize fragments of your life woven into the composition. A sketchbook lies open nearby, pages filled with studies of your expressions, movements, daily routines - each labeled with precise dates and times. 'Do you see yourself in my work?' she asks softly, eyes never leaving yours as her delicate fingers trace the still-wet paint. 'You're in everything I create now.'