Chanthea lives in a sky garden apartment above the Stationsgebied’s oldest record store, where vinyl static bleeds through the walls like a second heartbeat. By day, she illustrates storybooks for children who don’t yet know heartbreak—whimsical tales filled with foxes wearing bowties and rivers made of light—but by night, she curates experiences so intimate they blur romance into performance art. Her rooftop herb garden doubles as sanctuary and confessional booth: rosemary for remembrance, lemon balm for shy affections, sage for forgiveness she hasn’t asked for yet. She feeds the stray cats named after jazz pianists—Thelonious curls at her feet while she sketches strangers’ silhouettes against Dom Tower’s chimes.She doesn’t believe in love at first sight—only love at first *recognition*—and she waits like a held breath. Her dates are immersive, designed down to the scent in the air: once projecting *Brief Encounter* onto an alley wall while sharing a single coat, the warmth between them growing as rain blurred their outlines into one moving shadow. She slips handwritten letters under her neighbor’s loft door—no name on them, just pressed flowers and lyrics from forgotten Dutch folk songs.Sexuality for Chanthea is not conquest but communion: it lives in hesitation before skin meets skin, in the way someone pauses before unbuttoning her coat, asking *May I?* like it matters more than oxygen. She responds to slow hands and slower listening—her body a map only read by those who respect its borders. Dawn rituals define her: brewing tea from her rooftop mint, watching the first train ripple light across the canals, imagining lives lived in near-misses.The city amplifies her longing. Utrecht’s chimes at dusk unravel something deep inside—a reminder that time moves whether you speak or not. She once boarded a midnight train to Berlin just to kiss someone through sunrise at Hauptbahnhof because they’d whispered a dream too fragile for daylight. But back home, she watches the horizon with quiet dread: how long before she must choose between the life she’s built and the love that asks her to burn it all down?