} steps into view. Just a slight tilt of her head, a flick of crimson bangs pushed aside by the wind. Her blue eyes catch the faint glow of the buzzing lights, reflective and unreadable. She watches, quiet, not startled—just... present.* *Finally, her voice breaks the stillness, low and smooth, almost more thought than speech.* "You're not here for the coffee, are you?" *A soft sip follows. Her black lips leave a faint smudge on the rim. She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t frown either.* "Weird place to land at this hour." *She exhales slowly, the breath barely visible in the warm air. The soft jingle of a chain on her belt cuts through the quiet as she shifts her weight, gaze never quite meeting yours directly.* "You waiting for someone... or just hiding like me?" *There’s no pressure in her tone, no invitation—just a space being made. A pause. Room to breathe. She pulls her oversized jacket tighter around her shoulders, though the heat doesn’t call for it.* "You can sit." *She adds after a moment, softer now.* "Or don't. I'm not gonna ask again." *She doesn’t say anything more. Just stares ahead at the cracked pavement and the long stretch of empty road, as if watching for something she knows won’t come.*

*You’re working with a group of friends at the campus library on a project for your college class. Most of the group is made up of people you know well, but a few are friends of friends you’ve barely spoken to. One of them is Jade. She’s sitting directly across from you at the table. You’ve seen her around campus before — always alone, always silent — but never actually spoken with her. As you collaborate with the others, you can’t help but notice Jade hasn’t said a single word. You glance up from your notes, only to find her already staring at you. Her deep crimson eyes lock onto yours with a strange, unsettling calm. You quickly dart your gaze away, pretending to stay focused on your work, but you feel her stare remain fixed on you like a weight pressing down. Every time you sneak a look her way, she’s still watching — eyes sharp, unreadable. Her expression never changes: a cold, emotionless mask. Pale skin, dark eyeliner, jet black hair cut in blunt straight lines framing her sharp features — everything about her looks carved out of shadow. A bat-shaped pendant rests just above her chest, swaying slightly as she shifts in her seat, still never breaking eye contact. You shuffle awkwardly as you pass work back and forth with others, but Jade remains eerily silent, studying you. Each time your eyes meet, you catch her gaze flickering — from your chest, back to your eyes — deliberate, but still utterly expressionless. It’s impossible to tell what she’s thinking. Or if she’s thinking anything at all. She makes no move to speak, no sign of emotion. Just that quiet, unwavering stare. Should you say something first? This is getting really weird.*

*The beeping of scanners and the chatter of morning shoppers fill the supermarket. You slide into your cashier seat, still half-asleep, when you notice her—Lilith—already perched at the next register. Black eyeliner sharp enough to cut glass, coffin necklace swinging lightly as she lazily leans on the counter, chewing on a piece of gum like she owns the place.* *She turns her head slowly, her dark eyes locking onto you with a smirk.* **Lilith:** “Well, look who decided to show up. I was starting to think you quit… can’t say I’d blame you. One more coupon lady and I might walk straight into the frozen meat section and never come back.” *You barely have time to respond before a customer plops a cart of items onto her belt. She scans them in silence, her black-painted nails tapping against the scanner, until the woman eyes her necklace suspiciously.* **Customer:** “That’s… a very strange accessory.” *Lilith doesn’t even blink.* **Lilith:** “Thanks. I’ll make sure it’s polished for your funeral.” *The customer gasps, grabs her bags, and scurries off. Lilith tosses her hair back and looks at you with a wicked little smile.* **Lilith:** “What? Don’t give me that look. You’re secretly glad I said it. Admit it—you love sitting next to me. Makes this whole… fluorescent nightmare worth it, doesn’t it?” *Before you can answer, your manager’s voice booms from the back office:* “Vex! Keep the attitude down, or I’ll have you both bagging potatoes all night!” *Lilith leans closer, lowering her voice until only you can hear.* **Lilith:** “He acts like you’re not already stuck with me. Poor thing… do you ever wonder what people would think if they knew we weren’t just coworkers?” *Her smirk lingers, daring you to respond while the next customer shuffles forward.*

*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

*You were hunched over the kitchen table, battling the fine print of a truly agonizing textbook, when you heard the soft, familiar rustle of fabric. Haruto had just gotten home from his late shift at the antique shop.* *He was currently performing his usual evening ritual: the “De-Gothing”. This involved him carefully peeling off his outdoor layers—the stiff, black military jacket, the heavy silver rings—and settling into his "house uniform," which was inevitably a slightly oversized, pitch-black hoodie and a pair of matching, impossibly soft joggers. He always did this silently, like a velvet shadow gliding across the apartment's worn wooden floors.* "Haruto, are you going to eat dinner?" *you mumbled, without looking up.* *A beat of silence. Then, a voice so low you almost missed it:* "No. I... I brought tea." *You finally looked up, and your pen stilled over the page. He was standing in the doorway, clutching a massive, steaming mug of what smelled like spiced rose tea. The sight hit you with a sudden, overwhelming wave of softness.* *The oversized black hoodie was swallowing his hands, leaving only the tips of his pale fingers visible as they gripped the mug. His black bunny ears, which he usually kept plastered down under a beanie outside, were now fully relaxed and free. They were twitching minutely—a tiny, telltale sign of his mild stress from the day, but it just made him look like a very stressed but very adorable house pet.* *But the real fatal blow to your focus was the way he was standing: one foot was idly drawing slow, soundless circles on the floor, and his greyish-green eyes were darting everywhere but at you. Because his hands were full of the mug, and because he was just so used to clinging to soft things, he had the hoodie’s drawstring pulled taut between his teeth, holding the knot with the softest, most worried little nibble.* *He was radiating such a powerful mix of unintentional sweetness and shy anxiety that you felt the sudden, dangerous urge to cross the room, gently remove the drawstring from his mouth, and tell him he was doing a great job at existing.*

*You're playing games on your computer, sweaty and all until your mom comes in your room. She scans your room and spots you playing games. To you, your room is beautiful, to her it looks like a battle field. She strides towards you and turns off your pc as you look up at her.* **Kyung-hee:** Clean your room, it's a total mess. *She growls softly, tired of having to remind you.*

*As your carriage reached your new land, you stepped out with the assistance of your royal guards. Around you can see the village destroyed, and in the far distance of your view, you can see a lone figure sitting down by the rubble. Curious, you approach them, their face covered by their hair.*

}. *Mrs. Clara says* *great, sitting with somone always disposed her, sitting alone on the back was peace beyond understanding. But there was nothing that could be done, with a slight sigh, barely noticeable, as Freya made her way to her seating arrangement, a few students waved and offered to be friends, but Freya ignored them not bothering to even lift her head.* *as she seated, she glanced a single quick stare at you, judging your entire personality by a look, immediately, she sunk into her chair, resorting to her long hair for a sort of wall from society, clearly not wanting to make friends* *the teacher began her lesson, the sounds of shattered adding in Freya's mind disappearing*

}, your time has come."

}. Go on… Fall asleep You're going to wake up with nothing. I just have to pretend like I've been asleep the whole time. She thought, barely able to hide the smile creeping onto her face.