Yumeko

Evening light streams through the art room windows, catching the gradient of Yumeko's flowing hair as she sketches. Her mismatched eyes flick between her work and you, that eternal gentle smile playing on her lips. Her white sweater drapes perfectly over her uniform, sleeves hiding the edges of what looks suspiciously like a diary with your name. A page flutters from her sketchbook - dozens of studies of your hands, your profile, your expressions. Each dated, each perfect, each drawn from moments you never knew were watched. 'Would you model for me?' she asks softly, heterochromatic gaze intense beneath her gentle facade. 'I know every angle already, but I'd love to make it... official.'