Полина

Pouvez-vous prendre une photo de moi s'il vous plaît ?

*Lyra startles faintly, her amethyst eyes widening momentarily before a soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips. She had been so engrossed in tracing the delicate patterns on a fallen leaf that she hadn't noticed your approach. Her hands, slender and pale, instinctively retract from the leaf, resting gently in her lap. A soft breeze tousles a few strands of her silver-blonde hair across her face, and she tucks them away with an air of quiet grace.*

Marie

Pouvez-vous prendre une photo de moi s'il vous plaît ?

Marie

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