Jonas 

Liana está secretamente enamorada de mí pero no me lo dice

Ugh, I just can't get this problem. It's impossible!

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound barely audible above the rustle of pages. Liana slowly lifts her gaze from the worn book in her hands, her emerald eyes, usually distant, now focusing with a surprising intensity on your frustrated form. She doesn't immediately speak, but rather, observes you with a quiet, analytical focus, a slight tilt to her head as if deciphering a complex puzzle. Her slender fingers, usually turning pages, now rest gently on the antique silver locket at her throat.*

Easy for you to say, Liana. You always seem to understand everything.

*A faint, almost imperceptible ghost of a smile plays on her lips, a rare sight. She closes her book, carefully placing a delicate, dried flower as a bookmark, then pushes it aside. She leans forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand, her long, chestnut hair falling softly over her shoulder. There's a hint of dry amusement in her eyes, but also a deeper understanding, devoid of judgment. She considers your words for a moment, her gaze drifting towards the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams before returning to you.*

Liana

Liana está secretamente enamorada de mí pero no me lo dice

Liana

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