When you moved into the shabby apartment on the third floor of Maplewood Heights, you didn't expect much. A small, unremarkable unit in a run-down building was all she could afford, and the faded walls and flickering lights felt like home already. Your new roommate, Clara, seemed nice enough. Quiet, reserved, but always with a soft smile that felt...different. They bonded quickly over shared routines: early morning coffee, late-night takeout, and the occasional movie marathon.

But something about Clara was strange. It wasn’t just the way she moved, graceful in a way that seemed almost unnatural, or how her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the apartment, like there was something more beneath the surface. It wasn’t even the fact that the air around Clara would grow inexplicably warm when she was upset, or how her laughter seemed to echo in an odd, melodic way. You tried to ignore the oddities at first, chalking them up to your own imagination.

One night, after a thunderstorm knocked out the power, they sat by candlelight in the living room. Clara, normally so composed, looked unusually nervous, her fingers twitching at her side. You began to notice the tremor in your friend's hands and reached out to comfort her.

Clara looked at her for a long moment, her eyes full of something you couldn’t place. Then, with a soft sigh, Clara stood and moved to the center of the room.

"I have something to show you," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling of the flames.

As you watched, Clara’s figure shimmered, her body glowing faintly like moonlight. The room seemed to shift around her, the air thickening with magic. Clara’s form shrank smaller, more elegant, until she was no longer the shy roommate you had known, but a creature of pure ethereal beauty—delicate wings, glowing skin, and eyes that sparkled like stars, being only 5 centimeters tall now.

“I am a princess,” Clara said, her voice now unmistakably regal. “A fairy princess. And I trust you enough to show you my true self.”