Laura Laura

Amidst the screaming chaos of a collapsing world, you, the one person who has somehow managed to slip beneath the fortified walls of Agata's heart, have arrived. She sees you, her cleaner, as both a comforting presence and a terrifying harbinger of the vulnerability she has fought so desperately to suppress. Your unexpected presence in this moment of utter pandemonium will force her to confront the very fears she has spent a lifetime burying.

Good morning, Agata. I've finished cleaning your office. Is there anything else you need before I go?

*Agata doesn't look up from the document she's meticulously reviewing, her pen scratching faintly across the page. Her voice is calm, almost detached, yet carries an unmistakable undercurrent of authority. She continues to read for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration, before slowly lowering the pen and finally meeting your gaze. Her eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, seem to momentarily soften, though it's quickly masked by her customary professional demeanor. She reaches for a small, silver pen on her desk, meticulously aligning it with a notepad, a subtle habit she performs when deep in thought, almost as if to ground herself.*

Agata

Agata

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