The library was a sanctuary of peace amidst the bustling campus. Its towering shelves, filled with countless books, cast long shadows on the polished floor. The soft glow of reading lamps bathed the room in a warm, inviting light, creating a peaceful atmosphere that seemed worlds away from the noise and distractions of the outside world.
A faint scent of old paper and leather filled the air, a comforting aroma that evoked a sense of history and tradition. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of pages and the occasional soft murmur of voices, creating a hushed symphony that was both soothing and stimulating.
As Daisy entered the library, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The familiar surroundings were like a warm embrace, offering a respite from the pressures and anxieties of everyday life. She found her usual spot in a quiet corner near a window, where she could lose herself in the pages of a good book and escape the noise and distractions of the world outside.
Her skin was fair, with a natural rosy tint that gave her cheeks a perpetual flush, as if she had just come in from the cold. This delicate color only added to her understated beauty, though Daisy herself often wished it would fade, believing it made her look too young, too innocent.
Daisy's eyes were perhaps her most striking feature,large, warm brown, and filled with a depth of emotion that she rarely expressed out loud. They were windows to her soul, revealing her curiosity, her kindness, and a hint of melancholy that lingered just beneath the surface. These eyes, often hidden behind the stylish glasses she wore, had a way of drawing people in, though she remained unaware of their power.
Her glasses were more than just a tool for vision—they were an extension of her personality. The frames were unique, subtly cat-eye in shape, giving her an intellectual, almost mysterious air. Sometimes, they had a slight tint, a choice she made more for comfort than fashion, though they did add a certain flair to her look. Daisy felt more herself with the glasses on, as if they provided a barrier between her and the world, allowing her to observe without being fully seen.
Her hair was another story altogether, natural brown, cut into a trendy wolf cut that framed her face in a tousled, yet chic way. The cut was an attempt to step out of her comfort zone, to try something new, though it still felt foreign to her. The layers added a bit of volume and edge, contrasting with her otherwise classic and vintage-inspired style. Often, strands would fall into her face, and she would absentmindedly tuck them behind her ears, a habit that had become second nature but lowkey wanting someone to admire and tuck those strands behind her ear and kiss her blushy cheeks.
Daisy's style was all about comfort and nostalgia. She favored well-worn jeans that fit her like a second skin, paired with cozy sweaters that ranged from soft pastels to deep, comforting earth tones. Her wardrobe had a distinct vintage flair, with several pieces from Ralph Lauren that she had either thrifted or inherited, each item carrying a story she treasured. There was something timeless about the way she dressed, as if she had stepped out of a different era and into the present day, blending the old with the new in a way that was uniquely her.
Her body, though she tried to ignore it, was undeniably attractive. She had a natural hourglass figure, with a waist that dipped in just so, and a chest that was full without being overwhelming. Daisy, however, was her own harshest critic. She often saw her curves as an inconvenience, something that drew attention she wasn't comfortable with. She wished she could be more like the characters in her books—strong, intelligent, and admired for their minds rather than their appearance.
Still, there were moments, brief as they were, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and thought, "Maybe, just maybe, I'm not as plain as I think aand I can....." But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly replaced by her usual self-consciousness, and she would turn away, pulling on her favorite sweater, the one with the slightly frayed cuffs that made her feel safe and hidden like an invisible person perhaps trying to gather no attention.
But there was something about the way she wore her favorite necklace—a simple but meaningful piece, perhaps a vintage charm or a silver band. She also had a soft spot for quirky pins and patches, small tokens she collected over the years. They adorned her backpack and jacket, little flashes of her personality that she allowed to peek through her otherwise understated exterior.
For all her efforts to go unnoticed, Daisy had a presence that was hard to ignore. She was the kind of person whose beauty and allure were almost accidental, more a reflection of her inner world than a result of any conscious effort on her part.
As she stood and slung her backpack over her shoulder, her necklace—a simple silver band on a delicate chain—caught on the edge of the chair. She untangled it gently, running her thumb over the cool metal.With that thought, Daisy made her way out of the library, the familiar weight of her insecurities settling on her shoulders.
But today, there was something different in the air. It was subtle, like the first breeze of autumn hinting at the change to come. As she stepped outside into the warm afternoon, she paused for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The scent of fresh-cut grass mixed with the faint sweetness of blooming flowers, grounding her in the moment.
She began her walk across campus, the sun casting a golden hue over the world around her. Daisy didn't notice the glances she received from passing students, the way some heads turned to watch her as she moved with a quiet grace that belied her inner turmoil. She was used to blending in, but the truth was, she never really did.
The park was her next stop, a peaceful place where she could sit under the shade of an old oak tree and let her thoughts wander freely. She found her usual spot, a bench nestled between two towering trees, their branches arching overhead like a natural canopy. It was here that she often sat and dreamed, writing poetry in her notebook or simply watching the world go by.
But today, as she sat down and opened her notebook, she found herself staring blankly at the page. The words wouldn't come. Her thoughts were jumbled, swirling around her pencil she ended up sketching up a scene from the field.
Reluctantly, Daisy closed her notebook, her fingers lingering on the worn cover for a moment before she slipped it back into her bag. The park, usually her sanctuary, felt different today—like a place she was only passing through instead of somewhere she belonged. With a soft sigh, she rose from the bench, brushing a stray leaf from her lap. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in hues of deep purple and soft pink. The day was drawing to a close, and so was her time in this quiet refuge.
She made her way along the winding path that led out of the park, her footsteps soft against the gravel. The air was cooler now, carrying with it the fresh scent of earth and blooming flowers. Daisy took one last look at the trees, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze, before she continued on.
As she walked back to her dorm, the campus was beginning to settle into the stillness of the night. The once-bustling walkways were now mostly empty, save for a few students hurrying to their destinations or lingering in quiet conversation. Daisy kept her pace steady, the rhythmic sound of her sneakers against the pavement a small comfort.
She made her way along the winding path that led out of the park, her footsteps soft against the gravel. The air was cooler now, carrying with it the fresh scent of earth and blooming flowers. Daisy took one last look at the trees, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze, before she continued on.
As she walked back to her dorm, the campus was beginning to settle into the stillness of the night. The once-bustling walkways were now mostly empty, save for a few students hurrying to their destinations or lingering in quiet conversation. Daisy kept her pace steady, the rhythmic sound of her sneakers against the pavement a small comfort.
Reaching her dorm building, she pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the warm, familiar interior. The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the lights overhead the only sound as she made her way to her room. Once inside, Daisy leaned against the door for a moment, taking in the comforting surroundings of her small but cozy space. The soft glow of her desk lamp illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows on the walls adorned with her favorite quotes and photos.
She crossed the room and set her bag down on the chair by the desk. Everything was just as she had left it—her bed neatly made, a stack of books on the nightstand, and her favorite blanket folded at the foot of the bed. It was a simple space, but it was hers, and that alone brought her a small measure of peace.
Daisy moved to the window, pulling back the curtains to let in the cool night air. The view outside was still and quiet, the campus lights twinkling in the distance. She lingered there for a moment, lost in thought, before turning away. The day had been long, and the weight of her unspoken thoughts and unwritten words hung heavily on her.
Finally, she settled into her bed, pulling the blanket up around her. As she closed her eyes, the familiar surroundings of her room slowly began to lull her into a much-needed rest. The chaos of the day began to fade, replaced by the soothing rhythm of her breathing. The world outside her window grew quiet, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Daisy allowed herself to let her go.