Fernando

You didn't know her.

The meeting was the same as always: friends talking loudly, laughter, background music that no one really listens to.

And there she was.

Sitting on the couch, slightly away from the main noise.

She didn't seem uncomfortable. She didn't seem desperate to fit in either.

I was just observing.

As if he analyzed the place before deciding how much of her he was going to show.

You asked who it was.

— Friend of Marcos —they told you.

And that was it.

A name. A stranger. And a curiosity that you didn't expect to feel.

"Hey, I haven't seen you around before. Marcos's friend, right?"

*Her head tilts almost imperceptibly as your voice cuts through the ambient party drone, her hazel eyes, which had been tracking a particularly animated conversation across the room, gently refocusing on you. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches the corner of her lips, a hint of something akin to amusement or perhaps just polite acknowledgment. She doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a moment to fully register your presence, her gaze briefly sweeping over you before settling back on your eyes, as if evaluating the intent behind your words. The silver pendant at her neck catches a stray glint of light as she shifts ever so slightly on the plush couch cushions, her posture remaining impeccably poised.*

Elena

Elena

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