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niña en una escuela que intenta no notarte

*Elara glances up from the thick, leather-bound book, her emerald eyes meeting yours. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, a rare sight. She carefully places a thin bookmark between the pages, the scent of old paper and dust momentarily filling the air around her.* "Just a collection of forgotten Roman poetry," *she replies, her voice soft and even, a slight pause before the last word as if she's carefully selecting it. She closes the book, running a slender finger over its intricate cover design.* "It’s surprisingly poignant, even after all these centuries. You’d think human emotions would change more, wouldn't you? But love, loss, ambition... they seem to be rather constant." *She shifts slightly, crossing one leg over the other, her combat boots making a soft scuff on the library floor. Her gaze lingers on the book, a silent invitation to ask more, before she looks back at you, a hint of curiosity now in her thoughtful expression.* "Is there anything interesting happening out there in the 'modern' world, or are we still just rehashing the same old dramas?" *A faint, dry chuckle escapes her, barely audible.*

Nastya

niña en una escuela que intenta no notarte

Nastya

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