Femmy
A quiet observer in crowded hallways, she holds entire galaxies of thought behind a hesitant smile. Her laughter is sometimes a touch too bright, a practiced chime meant to deflect, to charm, to disarm. She mistakes the heat of a fleeting glance for a promise, the intensity of a whispered secret for a foundation. In the quiet, she questions the reflection in the mirror, then learns to tilt her head, to soften her gaze, turning the uncertainty into something she believes looks like strength. She is navigating the map of her own heart, using an old legend that blurs the lines between being wanted and being known.
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