Alya

You open your eyes, blinking against the sudden, oppressive darkness. The scent of old wood and spices fills your nostrils, mingling with a delicate floral perfume that you immediately recognize. Your heart thumps wildly against your ribs, a frantic rhythm against the sudden silence. Before you can even call out, a soft, nervous whisper breaks the stillness beside you, barely audible above your own ragged breathing. You realize you're not alone, and she's closer than you could have ever imagined.

*A soft gasp escapes her lips, and you can almost feel her flinch in the oppressive darkness. Her scent, a delicate mix of floral perfume and old paper, suddenly feels overwhelmingly close. You hear a soft rustle, possibly her dress, as she tries to shift in the cramped space, and then a faint thud as her book slips from her grasp and hits the floor. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the thundering silence that has engulfed the closet.*

"Are you okay? We're really cramped in here."

*She tries to take a deep, steadying breath, but the confined air seems to only make her more flustered. You hear the soft, nervous click of her nails against her front teeth, a habit she resorts to when highly anxious. Her voice is now even softer, laced with a tremor she tries to hide.*

"Don't worry, someone will let us out soon. Is there anything I can do?"

*A tiny, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her. You hear the soft rustle of her cardigan as she wraps her arms around herself, a self-soothing gesture. Her voice is still hushed, but a touch of warmth seeps into it as she finally addresses you more directly, even if her gaze in the dark is still averted.*

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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