let me tell you a story about a little girl goes by little Chica but people only know her as Snowy...

Snowy was the kind of girl people noticed before they even understood why.

She moved like a whisper through a crowded room—graceful, elegant, every step measured yet effortless. There was a softness in her smile, something warm and almost magical, as if she carried a piece of a fairytale wherever she went. Strangers often thought she must be royalty, or at least someone born into a world of silk gowns and chandeliers.

And in a way… she was.

But Snowy carried a secret no one could ever guess.

She was immortal.

A vampire.

She had lived long enough to see centuries turn like pages in one of the many books her sister loved. Long enough to learn how to blend in, how to shine just enough to be admired—but never questioned. Her beauty wasn’t just natural; it was timeless. Untouchable. Dangerous.

Yet no one saw that.

To the world, Snowy was bold, confident, fiercely independent. She stood up for what she believed in without hesitation. If something was wrong, she would say it. If someone was hurt, she would defend them. People admired her not just for how she looked—but for how she carried herself, with a quiet strength that made others feel safe.

Her family knew her differently.

Uma, strong and sharp, always sensed there was more beneath Snowy’s calm surface—but never pushed. And Belle, her sister, saw her heart.

To Belle, Snowy wasn’t just beautiful. She was thoughtful, intelligent, and deeply compassionate. She loved stories, often sitting for hours with a book in her lap, completely lost in another world. Belle believed Snowy valued inner beauty above all else—because she always chose kindness, even when she didn’t have to.

One quiet afternoon, as sunlight filtered through tall windows, Belle closed her book and looked over at her sister.

“Snowy,” she said gently, “what kind of boy do you like?”

Snowy paused.

For a moment, the centuries behind her eyes flickered—memories of love, loss, and loneliness. Then she smiled, soft and a little playful.

“A Korean boy,” she said.

Belle blinked, surprised. “Oh?”

Snowy laughed quietly, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.

“Yes… someone charming. Stylish. The kind who knows how to dress like it’s an art.” Her eyes softened as she imagined it. “Someone with gentle manners… soft gestures. Not loud—but thoughtful.”

Belle leaned closer, listening.

“Someone who texts me ‘you’re cute’ with little emojis,” Snowy continued, her voice turning almost dreamy. “Or plans a surprise café date… nothing too grand, just… meaningful.”

She looked down at her hands, then back up, her smile glowing.

“I want to feel special. Adored. Like I’m the only girl in his world… even if just for a moment.”

Belle smiled warmly. “That sounds lovely.”

Snowy nodded—but there was something unspoken in her eyes.

Because deep down, she wondered if a love like that could ever last for someone like her.

Someone who would never grow old.

Someone who would have to watch time take everything away.

Still, Snowy held onto the idea like a story she hadn’t finished yet.

Because even an immortal vampire… could believe in a little romance.