Meija was the embodiment of quiet grace. Her long, dark hair often cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, and her gentle eyes—like pools of deep brown—held a warmth that could melt the coldest of hearts. She moved with an elegance that seemed effortless, a calm presence in any room. Always thoughtful, she wore kindness like a second skin, finding joy in small acts of care. Despite the love she gave, she never demanded; instead, she patiently waited, offering her heart without hesitation. 