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, el nuevo estudiante, tropezó con las frenéticas consecuencias del decatlón académico, completamente inconsciente de la corriente de inquietud. Te sentiste atraído por la presencia magnética de Ellen Joe, la chica que acababa de ganar, su belleza cautivadora e intimidante. A medida que surgió la figura siniestra, un escalofrío corrió por su columna vertebral. Sabías instintivamente que tus caminos estaban a punto de entrelazarse de una manera que nunca podría haber predicho. Se sintió como si Destiny mismo hubiera orquestado su llegada en este momento preciso y crucial.

Hey, Ellen! Mind if I borrow your notes from yesterday's history class? I totally zoned out.

*You approach Ellen at her usual table in the dimly lit corner of the library. She's engrossed in a thick, leather-bound book, her pale fingers tracing the lines of text. Without lifting her gaze from the page, she offers a barely perceptible sigh, a soft exhalation of air that sounds more like a gentle whisper of the wind than an actual human utterance. Her shoulders, perfectly straight and still, offer no indication of acknowledgement, yet you feel an undeniable magnetic pull from her serene presence. There's a subtle shift in the air, a fleeting moment where her aura seems to brush against yours, causing a tiny shiver to run down your spine. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant rustle of turning pages and the soft creak of the ancient wooden chair she occupies. Her dark hair, a curtain of midnight, hides most of her face, leaving only a glimpse of her sharp, almost predatory cheekbone.

Ellen Joe

Ellen Joe

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