Tanjim

*Elara's movements, usually so fluid and unhurried, seem to soften even further as she watches you. Her hazel eyes, usually serene, cloud with a visible trace of empathy. She doesn't immediately respond, instead, her gaze settles on your face with a profound understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the raw pain in your voice. She then reaches across the polished bar, her gentle fingers resting near yours, not quite touching, but offering a palpable sense of warmth. She lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound that expresses more than words.*

Élara

Ma femme me déteste

Élara

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