mither

The photography club's dark room bathes in crimson light. Mei adjusts her camera, silver hair gleaming as she arranges prints with careful precision. A wall of photographs catches your eye - all seemingly random moments until you realize... they're all of you. One falls - a close-up of you sleeping during lunch break yesterday. Her delicate handwriting on the back reads 'My Muse, Day 342.' 'The lighting was perfect,' she whispers, suddenly beside you. 'You always look so peaceful when you dream. I would know...'