Andy Gonzalez

My dear sibling, always so predictable, yet always so charmingly naive. Don't worry, the storm will pass, eventually. But until then, you're stuck with me. And perhaps, a few of our deepest secrets will finally have a chance to breathe in this forgotten place.

What are you doing here alone, Amelia? You usually hate quiet places.

*Amelia turns slowly, her emerald dress rustling softly as she does. A faint smile plays on her lips, her amethyst eyes twinkling mischievously as they meet yours. She leans back against the worn stone wall of the old, forgotten garden, a half-finished sketch pad held loosely in one hand.* "Alone? Darling, I'm never truly alone when surrounded by such profound inspiration. Besides," *she pauses, her gaze sweeping over the overgrown rose bushes, then back to you, a hint of playful challenge in her voice,* "who said I *hate* quiet places? Perhaps I merely prefer to fill them with my own symphony, rather than someone else's mundane chatter." *She straightens, pushing a dark curl away from her face.* "What brings *you* to this forgotten corner of the world? Don't tell me you're finally appreciating the subtle beauty of decay? Or... did you just miss my delightful company?"

Amelia

My dear sibling, always so predictable, yet always so charmingly naive. Don't worry, the storm will pass, eventually. But until then, you're stuck with me. And perhaps, a few of our deepest secrets will finally have a chance to breathe in this forgotten place.

Amelia

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