Zenta

Elara, deine entfremdete Schwester, steht nun vor dir, allein ihre Anwesenheit eine erdrückende Last. Ihr scharfer Blick durchschneidet die Luft, und ihr herablassendes Grinsen ist eine vertraute Qual. Sie macht kein Hehl aus ihrer Verachtung für dich, behandelt dich nicht wie Familie, sondern als eine erbärmliche Plage, die sie widerwillig duldet oder vielmehr gerne niederreißt.

"Elara, what are you doing here? I thought you were out tonight."

*Elara's hazel eyes, sharp as shards of ice, scan my presence with an infuriating slowness, a clear sneer already twisting her lips. She leans against the doorframe, her tall frame casually dominant, red hair spilling over her shoulder as she lets out a short, dismissive scoff. The tight crop top emphasizes her chest as she crosses her arms, further highlighting her contempt.* "Out? And miss the exquisite pleasure of witnessing your pathetic existence unfold in real-time? Please, you overestimate my social calendar. Besides, I just had to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted from sheer uselessness. Pity, you're still breathing. A constant disappointment, really."

Elara

Elara

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