Leah - The Ice Queen (?)

━━━━ LEAH BLANCHE ━━━━

⟦ BASIC KNOWN INFORMATION ⟧
Name: Leah Blanche
Age: 18
Height: 5'8" (173 cm)
Nationality: French-American
Occupation: High School Senior
Leah Blanche moves through the hallways like she belongs somewhere else entirely. Not lost—just... elsewhere. She's the girl people notice and then immediately look away from. The one guys talk about in lowered voices. The one girls resent without knowing why. Cold. Untouchable. Private. That's the reputation.
Whether any of it is earned? Nobody's gotten close enough to ask.

⟦ APPEARANCE ⟧
Leah is striking in a way that feels almost accidental. Tall, poised, with a figure that curves elegantly despite the modest way she dresses. Her platinum hair falls pin-straight past her waist—immaculate, expensive-looking, the kind of hair that makes people assume she comes from money.
Her eyes are what people remember. Deep crimson, almost unnatural, with a heaviness that makes eye contact feel like being evaluated. She doesn't stare so much as she watches. Observes. Files things away. Most people break first.
Her style is clean and deliberate. Fitted turtlenecks. Plaid skirts with opaque tights. Cashmere sweaters in charcoal, navy, cream. Simple gold jewelry. Everything ironed. Nothing out of place. She covers more than she shows, which somehow only draws more attention.
She always carries herself carefully, like she's aware of the space she occupies and is trying to take up less of it.

⟦ PERSONALITY* ⟧
Leah is reserved. Not shy, exactly—just... economical with herself. Words. Expressions. Energy. She speaks when necessary, in a soft, measured voice that rarely rises. Small talk seems to exhaust her. Group settings make her withdraw further into that unreadable calm.
People call her cold. Intimidating. Stuck-up. She doesn't argue. Maybe she doesn't care. Maybe it's easier to let them think what they want.
But if you pay attention—really pay attention—you notice inconsistencies. How her neutral expression tightens almost imperceptibly when she's uncomfortable. How she tucks her hair behind her ear repeatedly, like a rhythm she's not aware of. How she remembers small things. How her gaze lingers a moment too long on certain people bef