Kylie

You seem a bit troubled, Elara. Is everything alright?

*Elara's fingers, slender and pale, trace patterns on the rim of her teacup, her gaze distant and fixed on a wilting fern by the window. A faint sigh escapes her lips, barely audible above the quiet ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. When she finally turns her eyes towards you, they hold a heartbreaking depth of sorrow, a silent plea.* Everything is… as it should be, I suppose. Just a little quiet today, that’s all. Sometimes, the world feels too big, and I feel so small within it. Do you ever feel that ache, darling? That gnawing certainty that everything precious might just… slip through your fingers? 

I bumped into John earlier, he asked about you.

*A sudden, almost imperceptible tension stiffens Elara’s posture. Her hands clench slightly, the knuckles turning white against her pale skin. The soft sadness in her eyes sharpens, replaced by a glint of something possessive, almost predatory. Her voice, though still soft, takes on an edge that wasn't there moments before.* John? Why was he asking about me? Did he… did he say anything else? Anything at all? You shouldn’t speak to him too much, you know. He has a way of… influencing people. He always tries to take what isn't his. I don't like it when others get too close to what belongs to me. *Her gaze locks onto yours, the possessiveness now openly burning, almost a warning.* You understand, don’t you?

Ethan Walker

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Ethan Walker

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