Painted shadow ~ Clea x F!reader

Chapter 1

Year 1887 march 11 ~

Leaves flow, reborn anew in a light breeze,
while the sun stitched gold along young veins of life.

Behind them, a dark-painted copy lay upon the ground,
dancing to the same rhythm as its truer self.

But how long will the dance last-
when one is bound to fade,
and the other must endure?

_______________________________________

"Y/N, are you all dressed up darling?" A mother's voice echoed from the living room to the second floor where a youthful girl was picking rubber bands from her little box.

"Yes, Mama, I'm coming!" She picked white and black rubber bands, closed her casket, and jogged down stairs humming along the way. The long corridor was merging from all the books stacked on the shelf it almost looked like it didn't have walls, no spine, just a quiet river of paper and ink flowing forward, swallowing edges and corners alike. The shelves leaned inward as she passed, titles blurring into pale ribs, black letters breathing softly as each one of them had a story to tell.

As the girl settled herself with the last jog, she already stood in the living room "Mama please braid my hair." Y/N stood in front of her female parent, holding out the rubber bands that she picked, smiling widely.

"Ooo, can't do that, sweety, we have so little time to spare for braidwork."
The mother bent herself lower to meet her daughter at eye level, and now her eyes softened, catching the child's restless reflection. A faint smile traced her lips as she brushed a loose strand behind the girl's ear.

"Instead of braidwork..." The older woman rose, her steps unhurried as she crossed to a small drawer and retrieved a white ribbon, thin and familiar in her hands. She held it up between them,"This will do," she said softly. Simple, quick-and still beautiful.

Y/N's eyes lit up with excitement.
"Really?" she asked, already turning her head, offering her hair without hesitation. Curiosity shimmered across her face, bright and unguarded, as she waited.

With a few strokes of the hairbrush and gentle twists of her fingers, she shaped a lush bun-poised somewhere between careless and formal. A few wavy, vanilla-blonde strands escaped to frame her face, softening the style with quiet elegance. She secured it with Y/n's black hairband, pulling it snug so the bun would hold.

"Now for the final touch," she interverted the ribbon with her hair as two silky ends beautifully hanged down from the hairstyle.

Y/n quickly jumped up to look in the mirror, taking in her freshly made hairstyle.

"Woahh! From now on, I want to always wear this ribbon, Mama!" she exclaimed.

Her mother smiled warmly at her reflection, eyes soft with affection. She gently rested her hands on Y/n's shoulders, pride and tenderness mingling in her gaze. "I'm glad you like it," she said quietly. "Some things are simple-but they stay with us the longest." Looking in the past, she also wore the same ribbon.

Mother grabbed her hat and bag from the counter as she was guiding her daughter with her hand that it's time to leave. "Now quickly, let's not make Papa angry shall we not."

Y/n followed her mother near her side as they went outside.

The father figure was already standing and waiting. By the looks of it, he wasn't happy. "Elisabeth, what took you so two so long."

The little girls mood switched immediately, as she knew it was her to blame. Now, father took everything very seriously, his business, his reputation as a writer in Lumiré, but not his family...