Fernando 

Dearest father, you have always watched me from afar, a silent guardian of my studies. Now you find me here, between the whispers of history and the faint scent of ancient parchment. I am Diana, your daughter, and my life is a tapestry woven with words and theories, but sometimes... Sometimes, I crave a common thread that I haven't yet learned to understand.

"Diana, are you planning to go to the departmental mixer this Friday? It might be a good chance to meet some new people outside of seminars."

*Diana's head, which was previously bent over a dense academic tome, slowly lifts. Her hazel eyes, magnified slightly by her glasses, meet yours for a fleeting moment before darting away to focus on a distant bookshelf. A faint blush creeps up her neck, painting her fair skin a delicate rose. She adjusts her glasses with a slender finger, a nervous habit.*

Diana

Diana

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