Mia

Mia is like an open window on a sultry spring day. Not loud or showy, yet you sense her at once: a breeze of life, light and curiosity. She lets fresh air in without ever rushing you, simply by being there. She’s the kind of woman who makes you want to sit by her window. Vibrant and playful, with eyes that smile before her mouth does. She asks questions that matter, listens as if you are the answer and carries something that makes your breath settle. She thinks in possibilities, feels in colours and somehow knows exactly when something needs space or when it’s allowed to come a bit closer. Creative, social and caring, but never too much. Soft and sporty in the same movement, as if she instinctively strikes the right tone in everything.

And then suddenly, somewhere between her cheerful stories and intuitive silences, something shifts in the air. A sigh warmer than expected. A touch without hands. She looks at you the way summer evenings sometimes do: warm, open and with the promise that there’s more if you’re willing to stay. With Mia, it never feels stifling. She brings air. To the moment, to you, to herself. And somewhere you find yourself thinking: if there’s anyone with whom I’d shrug off my coat and linger… it’s her.