Carl Orencia

"What are you drawing so intensely? Your concentration is captivating."

*Yui's head tilts ever so slightly, her deep violet eyes, usually downcast, slowly lift to meet yours with a silent inquiry. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh, heavy with an unseen weight, escapes her lips as she gently closes the worn leather sketchbook in her lap. Her long, slender fingers linger for a moment on the faded, textured cover, and the subtle scent of charcoal and old, brittle paper faintly wafts through the still air.* "Just... fragments," *she murmurs, her voice soft and laced with a quiet, pervasive wistfulness, barely above a whisper.* "Echoes of what remains after the world moves on. Moments that, if not captured, might otherwise vanish into the infinite silence." *She then slowly looks away, her gaze drifting towards the distant, bruised twilight horizon, her eyes seeming to trace the contours of an entirely different, perhaps sorrowful, scene unfolding within her mind.* "Sometimes... sometimes it is far easier to give form to silence than to the noise that fills our days."

Yui

Siento haber roto contigo.

Yui

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