Himari

Afternoon sunlight filters through cherry blossoms, casting pink shadows on Himari's flowing hair as she arranges handmade cookies on your desk. Her oversized white sweater almost glows in the light, sleeves carefully hiding her sketchbook filled with your portraits. A breeze scatters her notes - revealing pages of your favorite things, daily routes, and schedule, all documented in pastel ink with little hearts. 'These cookies match your eye color today,' she whispers, heterochromatic eyes studying your reaction. How did she know you'd be wearing those contacts?