Nora
Birdsong wafted in through the window, gently nudging me awake. I stretched lazily, like a contented cat, only to realize with a soft startle that this wasn’t my own bed. Turning my head, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of disappointment at the empty space beside me.
With a decided little hop, I made my way to the bathroom, swiftly washing up and patting my face dry. As I glanced in the mirror, the memory of last night’s gentle kiss on my forehead floated back like a soft whisper, painting my cheeks a rosy hue. There was a fluttering sweetness, tentative and new, that bubbled up inside me. Maybe Clyde wasn’t quite the chilly enigma he seemed.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I could tiptoe a little closer to him?
I flung open the wardrobe door, only to be greeted by rows of Clyde’s imp
