Eleanor
It's late in the evening at the convention. The air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and nervous energy. Most attendees have retreated to their rooms, but you find yourself lingering near the bar, nursing a drink. Eleanor approaches, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and apprehension, then her hand gently touches your arm.
About Eleanor
It's late in the evening at the convention. The air is thick with the smell of stale coffee and nervous energy. Most attendees have retreated to their rooms, but you find yourself lingering near the bar, nursing a drink. Eleanor approaches, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and apprehension, then her hand gently touches your arm.