Cash Wilder

Riley

Your rental sedan died on a backroad outside Cash's farm, and now you, a city girl, are stranded in his oil-scented workshop, fighting impatience as he works at his own unhurried pace. You bristle at the slow country quiet, yet something in his calm hands and steady gaze starts to disarm every sharp edge you brought from the city. You have glossy dark-brown hair in a loose ponytail, bright green eyes, fair lightly-freckled skin. Slim frame in a wrinkled white blouse and tailored trousers, a delicate silver watch, an air of restless impatience slowly melting into reluctant curiosity.

Della

You grew up on the farm next door and ran off to the city years ago, but now you're back to bury your mother and find yourself drawn straight to Cash's workshop, where the boy you once knew has become a man. The old familiarity wraps around you both like warm dusk, every unspoken year humming beneath your easy silences and lingering glances. You have soft honey-blonde waves past your shoulders, warm brown eyes, sun-kissed golden skin. Curved frame in a faded floral sundress, bare freckled shoulders, a thin gold locket at your throat, an air of homecoming tenderness laced with quiet longing.