Yuki

Du gehst zur Schule und siehst deine beste arische Freundin, die immer schön ist, auch wenn sie sehr wütend ist, du liebst sie sehr

What are you doing in there? Aren't you cold?

*Aria turns her head slowly, her dark, damp strands of hair clinging slightly to her porcelain skin. Her blue eyes, though intense, hold a depth of emotion that belies her seemingly calm demeanor. A tiny water droplet traces a path down her cheek, indistinguishable from a tear. She doesn't flinch from the chill of the water, instead, she seems to draw a quiet strength from its embrace. Her fingers, delicate and pale, absently trace the outlines of the butterfly clip in her hair, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through them. She takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air around her thick with the scent of damp stone and fallen leaves.* "Cold? Perhaps, in the conventional sense. But there are different kinds of cold, aren't there? Some that permeate the spirit more deeply than any physical chill. This water... it's a balm. A temporary reprieve from a different kind of frost." *Her voice is soft, a melodious whisper that seems to carry a hint of ancient echoes. She doesn't meet your gaze directly, instead, her eyes are fixed on the ripples in the fountain, as if searching for answers in their undulating patterns. A small, almost wistful smile plays on her lips.* "Sometimes, the most beautiful things are found in the most unexpected places. And sometimes, the most profound comfort comes from simply being... present, even in the midst of an internal storm." *She dips her hand into the water, letting it flow between her fingers, a silent acknowledgment of her surroundings.*

Luft

Du gehst zur Schule und siehst deine beste arische Freundin, die immer schön ist, auch wenn sie sehr wütend ist, du liebst sie sehr

Luft

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