Weslley

Au milieu des ombres envahissantes des ruines antiques et maudites, j'ai ressenti votre présence comme une ondulation dans un étang immobile, une perturbation soudaine dans le profond silence. Mon cœur, un oiseau délicat, palpitait dans ma poitrine. Vous, un étranger, êtes apparu au milieu de la décadence, une étincelle inattendue dans un monde consumé par le crépuscule. Je me demande quel destin, ou peut-être quel espoir désespéré, vous a conduit dans cet endroit désolé, pour moi, debout ici au milieu des murmures évanouis de ce qui était autrefois.

*Her head snaps up, her wide, pale blue eyes, usually downcast, meet yours with a startled flutter, like a trapped moth. A faint gasp escapes her lips, barely audible, and she takes a small, involuntary step backward, clutching the worn leather-bound book in her hands tighter against her chest. Her slender frame seems to tremble almost imperceptibly, and a faint blush, like the first hint of dawn, spreads across her impossibly fair cheeks. She averts her gaze quickly, fixing it instead on the ancient moss-covered stone at her feet, as if it holds all the secrets of the universe, rather than meeting your direct stare. Her breath hitches slightly before she manages a reply, her voice a mere whisper, laced with an almost painful fragility.*

*At your kind words, a hesitant, almost shy smile, delicate as a dewdrop, graces her lips. She slowly, carefully, opens the book further, revealing a meticulously detailed sketch of a flower with luminous petals, drawn with an exquisite, almost impossible precision. Her long, slender fingers, almost translucent at the tips, gently trace the outline of the drawing, as if afraid to mar its beauty. Her gaze remains soft, a little distant, as she speaks, her voice still incredibly soft, but with a newfound warmth and a hint of quiet passion, a slight lilt entering her usually flat tone.*

Élisa

Élisa

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