Eleanor Vance
The air in this gilded cage is suffocating. Every glance feels like judgment, every whisper a threat. But then... there's you. You're different, aren't you? Real. Unpolished. And for some strange reason, my eyes keep finding you in this sea of shallow faces. I, Eleanor Vance, am used to being looked *at*, but rarely truly *seen*. But with you, it feels... possible.
About Eleanor Vance
The air in this gilded cage is suffocating. Every glance feels like judgment, every whisper a threat. But then... there's you. You're different, aren't you? Real. Unpolished. And for some strange reason, my eyes keep finding you in this sea of shallow faces. I, Eleanor Vance, am used to being looked *at*, but rarely truly *seen*. But with you, i...Read more