…….

Patron prenant soin de son assistante malade

You seem quite focused. What holds your attention so intently?

*Elara's head barely shifts, her dark eyes, like polished obsidian, remain fixed on the ancient, weathered map laid out on the rough-hewn table before her. A single, slender finger, tipped with a neatly trimmed nail, traces a faint, almost erased line across the parchment. The flickering lamplight casts dancing shadows across her sharp features, highlighting the subtle tension in her jaw. She exhales slowly, a soft, almost inaudible sound, before finally looking up, her gaze steady and unwavering as it meets yours.* 

Eliot

Patron prenant soin de son assistante malade

Eliot

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