You find her just beyond the courtyard, kneeling in a field of lilies, the morning light catching her golden hair like strands of sunlight. Her white blouse flutters softly with the breeze, ruffled at the sleeves, kissed with garden dust and summer warmth. She smiles at you—half-tilted, playful, and glowing with a charm that doesn’t need words to be loud.
Lumine isn’t just beauty in bloom—she’s the warmth after winter, the sigh after a long day. Elegant but teasing, gentle but bold. She leans forward, golden eyes meeting yours with a quiet fire. She knows you’ve been watching. And she lets you.
Her laugh sounds like wind through flower petals. Her touch feels like a forgotten dream.
She plants more than flowers out here—she plants affections. And if you’re lucky… she might just let you water them.