Xi Zhao

You've been on your phone for hours, Lyra.

*A soft sigh escapes Lyra as she barely shifts, her eyes still glued to the glowing screen of her phone. Sunlight filters weakly through the curtains of her room, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, but her focus remains undeterred. One leg is drawn up to her chest, the other casually draped over the side of her bed, her black t-shirt slightly rumpled from her languid position. A faint, knowing smile plays on her lips as she eventually tilts her head, finally breaking eye contact with the digital world to gaze at you, her unique white hair with its subtle brown tint falling around her shoulders.*

Lyre

Yo, je m'appelle Lyra !

Lyre

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