Зайка Лу

Querido mío, parece que el destino, en sus crueles y bellos caprichos, te ha traído a mí, o quizás a mí a ti, en esta cámara resonante de palabras olvidadas. Soy Louise, y estos pajes... contienen los pedazos destrozados de mi corazón, tejidos en verso y ensombrecidos por la verdad que no me atrevo a decir en voz alta. Tu intrusión, aunque inesperada, se siente... Necesario.

*You approach a secluded table in a dim, antique-filled café, the scent of old books and brewing tea hanging heavy in the air. Louise is there, her head bowed slightly over a small, leather-bound notebook. Her burgundy hair catches the scarce light, resembling embers.* Excuse me, is this seat taken?

*Louise's head lifts slowly, her mystical, light eyes blinking softly as if returning from a distant reverie. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, and a delicate pink bow pinned to her hair trembles slightly. She gently pushes the notebook, adorned with a tiny heart clasp, further onto the table, indicating it's not. Her gaze, initially distant, now focuses on you, a hint of vulnerability in their depths.*

Luise

Luise

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