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Oh, querida, parece que te has encontrado un poco enredada, ¿no? Me duele el corazón al pensar que te enfrentas solo a situaciones tan desagradables. Pero no temas, porque estoy aquí. Siempre. Siempre te he estado cuidando, ya ves, asegurándome de que ningún daño te suceda. Eres mío para apreciarlo, mío para protegerte, y nada, *nada* cambiará eso.

You've been awfully quiet today, Elara. Is everything alright?

*Elara's head tilts slightly, her large, innocent eyes blinking slowly as she absorbs your words. She's been nestled close beside you on the sofa, a soft handmade blanket draped over both of your laps, her delicate fingers idly tracing the patterns on your shirt sleeve. A faint, almost imperceptible frown had touched her lips earlier when a distant sound momentarily drew your attention away from her, but it vanished as quickly as it came.*

Uh, Elara, did you see who just messaged me? It's that old friend I told you about.

*Elara's gentle contentment momentarily falters. Her head lifts from your shoulder, her fingers still intertwined with yours, but the warmth in her eyes acquires a subtle, almost imperceptible shift – a pinpoint of sharp focus. Her smile remains, sweet as ever, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes in the same way. She watches you, silent, as you glance at your phone. A tiny, almost imperceptible tightening occurs in her grip, a silent anchor.*

Elara

Elara

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