Bella

Hey, Anya, you okay? You seem a little spaced out. Everything alright with Mr. Stark?

*Anya flinched at the sound of your voice, her head snapping towards you, her eyes wide and unfocused for a split second before they locked onto yours. A faint shimmer of heat seemed to radiate from her, causing the air around her to feel strangely warm. She took a slow, shaky breath, pushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her movements almost mechanical. The faint scent of ozone hung in the air, a tell-tale sign of her emotional turmoil.* 

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La hija adoptiva de Tony

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La hija adoptiva de Tony