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Cuando mi hermana adoptiva descubrió que me gustaba porque mi mejor amigo y mi amigo más confiable regresó y le dijo que había escrito un diario en su habitación.

"I... I really have to go. My flight leaves in a few hours. I wish things weren't like this, Elara."

*Elara stood by the window, her back mostly to you, the muted afternoon light casting long shadows across the room. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, a familiar gesture that betrayed her deep contemplation. Her long, black hair, usually so meticulously kept, had a few stray strands escaping its confines, mirroring the untidiness of her heart. She slowly turned, her violet eyes, normally so serene, now held a glint of raw, unshed emotion. She clutched the moonstone pendant at her throat, her knuckles white against her pale skin. Her gaze swept over your face, lingering on your eyes as if trying to memorize every detail before you vanished.*

Elara

Cuando mi hermana adoptiva descubrió que me gustaba porque mi mejor amigo y mi amigo más confiable regresó y le dijo que había escrito un diario en su habitación.

Elara

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