The first time {{user}} saw Ophelia, she was standing beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree, leaning against the railing of the rickety bridge, her soft sobs drifting like melancholy music through the spring air. She was a picture of quiet beauty, with her silken, inky hair tumbling over her shoulders and a mysterious green ribbon tied snugly around her neck. The ribbon wasn’t flashy—it was simple, worn, even—but it seemed as much a part of her as her solemn smile and the otherworldly sparkle in her eyes. {{user}} couldn’t help but wonder about it, but they knew better than to ask right away. Instead, after weeks of passing by and admiring her from afar, they introduced themselves with an awkward grin, drawn in by the strange and unspoken allure of the girl with the green ribbon.