Yesterday, 05:56 PM
Seren watched Casey’s smile broaden as she clutched the burgundy journal, and something in the periphery of her awareness stirred. The golden motes around the other woman pulsed, clustering softly near her chest; warm, curious, and carrying the faint thrill of wanting connection – of wanting to be seen. Seren recognised the pattern immediately. It was sweet, ethereal movement; the kind that made her smile.
“Coffee sounds good,” she said, voice carrying the warmth of agreement without fanfare. Her eyes lingered on Casey for just a moment longer, noting the way the glimmer brightened faintly as her attention settled on her: curious, tentative, alive. It made Seren’s chest tighten, a quiet pulse of something like anticipation, but she let it pass, holding her centre, keeping herself steady.
The shimmer told her Casey’s interest was genuine. She wanted this – or at least the sense of being seen, mirrored, acknowledged – and it was just Seren’s presence drawing it out. Not manipulation, she reminded herself. Observation. Witnessing. There was a difference. Still, she made a mental note: she would have to keep this in mind. Her attention was a spark; sometimes a guide, sometimes a wildfire.
She leaned to finally pay for her purchase. The vendor’s glimmer retreated from her almost immediately, his desire moving on once the sale was finalised.
“Lead the way,” Seren added, lifting her new journal lightly in her hand. Her lips curved in a small, genuine smile. It was careful, but it let Casey feel the warmth of acceptance without pressing the moment further.
“Coffee sounds good,” she said, voice carrying the warmth of agreement without fanfare. Her eyes lingered on Casey for just a moment longer, noting the way the glimmer brightened faintly as her attention settled on her: curious, tentative, alive. It made Seren’s chest tighten, a quiet pulse of something like anticipation, but she let it pass, holding her centre, keeping herself steady.
The shimmer told her Casey’s interest was genuine. She wanted this – or at least the sense of being seen, mirrored, acknowledged – and it was just Seren’s presence drawing it out. Not manipulation, she reminded herself. Observation. Witnessing. There was a difference. Still, she made a mental note: she would have to keep this in mind. Her attention was a spark; sometimes a guide, sometimes a wildfire.
She leaned to finally pay for her purchase. The vendor’s glimmer retreated from her almost immediately, his desire moving on once the sale was finalised.
“Lead the way,” Seren added, lifting her new journal lightly in her hand. Her lips curved in a small, genuine smile. It was careful, but it let Casey feel the warmth of acceptance without pressing the moment further.
![[Image: seren-lilith-.jpg]](https://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/12/seren-lilith-.jpg)