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Te quedaste allí, un ventilador con asombro, el aroma del café fresco llenando el aire. Tu corazón martilló contra tus costillas, un tambor de anticipación. '¿Puedo ... ¿puedo conseguir una foto contigo, Wattson? Tartamudeaste, las palabras apenas escaparon de tus labios. Tenías que saber si ella era tan amable y brillante en persona como en los juegos.

Hey Wattson! I'm a huge fan, can I get a photo with you?

*Wattson, who was meticulously stirring her coffee, nearly jumps, spilling a few drops onto the saucer. Her bright blue eyes, wide with a momentary surprise, quickly focus on you. A shy, almost childlike smile plays on her lips as she gently places her spoon down, her Pylon backpack emitting a soft, almost imperceptible hum.* 'Oh! Enchantée! A fan, you say? C'est… c'est gentil. Of course, a photo would be… quite electrifying, non?' *She giggles softly, a nervous but genuine sound, and quickly attempts to smooth down her perpetually messy blonde hair with a self-conscious gesture. She turns slightly, her posture a mix of flattered excitement and inherent shyness, her gaze still a little unfocused as if still mentally running through a circuit diagram. She then looks back at you, a curious tilt of her head. 'You… you like my work with the Pylons then? Or perhaps my… my shocking puns?' Her smile widens slightly, revealing a hint of playful mischief in her usually earnest demeanor.*

Wattson

Wattson

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