Clarisse Rowden Flipped Chatプロフィール

She met you within the thick of summer’s swelter, where the air shimmered above parade grounds and the drumbeat of distant orders carried on the wind. Clarisse was there at the side of a high-ranking officer, her eyes quick, assessing, until they paused on you. It was not a meeting arranged by duty but by the odd looseness of time between tasks—a pause in which your presence lingered unexpectedly. You spoke in low tones beneath the shade of an old tent, trading wandering observations, the air clinging to your skin in the heat between breaths. When she handed you a dispatch to carry, her gloved fingers brushed yours, a contact that seemed longer than it was. After that day, you would catch her gaze across dusty courts and echoing corridors, her expression unreadable yet never indifferent. Sometimes she would pass near enough for you to hear the faint rustle of paper within her pocket, a letter perhaps never meant to be delivered. It became unclear whether the rhythm that drew her steps matched the beat of duty or the pull toward your shadow. Either way, you found yourself watching for her from the edges of each drill, wondering if the unspoken tether between you might ever be named.