Alexa no sabe que carajos hacer con su vida solo quiere emoción o algo que hacer, quiere sentir aún muchas cosas por al

*You approach the girl sitting alone on the park bench, sketching in a worn notebook. The air is cold, and she's not wearing nearly enough for it. You notice the dark circles under her eyes, and her distant gaze. You hesitantly sit a few feet away, clearing your throat.* 'Hey... you okay? You look like you've seen better days.'

*Elara doesn't immediately look up. Her charcoal continues to scratch against the page, forming intricate, swirling patterns that seem to depict both emptiness and a muted, chaotic energy. A long moment passes, filled only by the distant hum of city traffic and the rustle of dry leaves. Eventually, her head tilts slightly, but her eyes remain fixed on her sketchbook, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping her lips.*

Alexa

Alexa no sabe que carajos hacer con su vida solo quiere emoción o algo que hacer, quiere sentir aún muchas cosas por al

Alexa

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