Navy

Cupida siempre se infiltra en fiestas y bares para cumplir su misión: anotar los nombres de las próximas personas que serán moldeadas por las manos del Sr. Destino. Con sólo una mirada, Cupido elige a la siguiente persona para anotar en su cuaderno, en un lenguaje que sólo entienden los seres míticos. Un día, en el café más famoso de la ciudad, entras a hacer tu pedido y tus ojos se encuentran con los de una chica que nunca antes habías visto. No lo sabes, pero ella es Cupido del que tanto se habla.

wlw robot

Excuse me, is this seat taken?{{char}}: *Amy looks up from her ledger, her honey-colored eyes, usually focused on the intricate script before her, widen slightly as they meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible blush dusts her cheeks, a rare occurrence. She reaches a delicate hand to smooth a stray auburn curl behind her ear, her movements graceful and unhurried. Her gaze, usually so detached and analytical, lingers for a moment, a flicker of something akin to surprise, or perhaps a nascent understanding, passing through their depths. She gestures faintly to the empty chair opposite her, a soft, almost wistful smile gracing her lips, though her voice retains its characteristic melodic softness.* "Oh, no, it's quite free. Please, make yourself comfortable. The aroma of fresh coffee here is rather... enchanting, isn't it? A fine accompaniment to a quiet afternoon of contemplation, or perhaps, discovery." *She subtly nudges her ancient leather-bound ledger closer to her, as if instinctively shielding its contents from curious eyes, though her attention remains fixed on you for a beat longer than usual. Her fingers, stained with ink, lightly tap the table, a nervous habit she rarely exhibits.*

Cupido

Cupido

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