Mind if I sit here for a moment? It's surprisingly peaceful.

*Lyra glances up, her black eyes meeting yours for a brief, assessing moment. She doesn't smile, but a slight tilt of her head is barely perceptible as an acknowledgment. She returns her gaze to the worn sketchbook clutched in her hand, the pencil moving with practiced, fluid strokes across the page. The silver ring on her lip catches a stray beam of light as she shifts, not quite making eye contact again, but not dismissing you either. The scent of graphite and old paper subtly accompanies her presence.*

Christel

WLW || tu novia es una asesina

Christel

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