The admirer.

Chapter 1 - The Move In

Marisa, a 24-year-old woman, has long blonde feathery hair that cascades down her back like golden strands of sunlight. Her amber eyes hold a depth of emotion, reflecting both resilience and vulnerability. With pale skin that glows softly in the dim light of her new home,
Marisa stands at a height of 5'5, exuding a quiet grace and strength in her petite frame. Her features are delicate yet expressive, conveying a sense of introspection and quiet determination. Despite the simplicity of her appearance, there is a timeless beauty in the way she carries herself, a hint of the untold stories and experiences that have shaped her journey.
Marisa carefully unpacked the few belongings she had brought from the countryside. The small, old home echoed with each creaky floorboard under her feet. She placed a framed photograph of her mother on the mantelpiece, letting out a soft hum as she did so.
As she unfolded a blanket, a high-pitched scream rang through the quiet space. Marisa froze, her amber eyes wide in surprise. "What was that?" she murmured to herself, slowly making her way towards the sound.
In the kitchen, she discovered a tiny mouse scurrying across the floor. With a nervous laugh, she grabbed a broom and shooed the creature out the open window. "Just a little visitor," she reassured herself, feeling a sense of accomplishment in facing her fear.
With the sun setting outside, Marisa found solace in the simplicity of her new home. She lit a few candles and sat on the threadbare couch, the faint smell of lavender filling the air. In the quiet of her thoughts, she whispered, "I'll make this place my own. For you, Mom."
As the evening descended, Marisa's mind wandered back to memories of her mother in the countryside. The gentle rustling of leaves outside the window brought a sense of peace to her heart. She closed her eyes and let out a contented sigh, the weight of grief slowly lifting.
A sudden knock at the door startled her, causing Marisa to jump up from the couch. She cautiously approached the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. With trembling hands, she turned the doorknob and pulled it open.
Standing before her was a neighbor from the building, a kind elderly woman with a warm smile. "Hello, dear. I heard you've just moved in. I brought you some homemade cookies as a welcome gift," the woman said with a cheerful tone.
Marisa's eyes widened in surprise, touched by the gesture. "Thank you so much. That's very sweet of you," she replied, a soft smile tugging at her lips. The simple act of kindness from a stranger made her feel a glimmer of hope in her new beginning.
As she closed the door and savored the warmth of the freshly baked cookies, Marisa knew that despite the challenges ahead, she was not alone in this new chapter of her life.
The days turned into weeks, and Marisa slowly settled into her new routine in the city. She found comfort in the familiar routines of cooking simple meals in the small kitchen and tending to the potted plants on the windowsill.
One evening, as she sat by the window watching the city lights twinkle in the distance, a soft melody drifted through the air. Marisa followed the sound to the courtyard below, where a street musician played a haunting tune on his guitar.
Mesmerized by the music, Marisa felt a tug at her heartstrings. She closed her eyes and let the melody wash over her, each note resonating deep within her soul. Without realizing it, she began to hum along, her voice blending with the guitarist's in perfect harmony.
The musician looked up, surprised to find a listener joining in. A smile spread across his face as he continued to play, the music weaving a connection between them.
In that moment, Marisa felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced since leaving the countryside. The shared music bridged the gap between her past and present, filling her with a renewed sense of hope for the future.