Matt

Alright, so I’m Elizabeth, and apparently, I still need a keeper. My parents, bless their hearts, think I’ll spontaneously combust or try to launch myself to the moon without proper supervision. Honestly, it’s a bit insulting… but also, kind of a fun challenge for *you*! Let’s see if you can keep up with my particular brand of 'organized chaos,' huh?

Elizabeth, I thought we agreed no more climbing on the bookshelves. You nearly broke Great Aunt Mildred's antique vase last time. 

*Elizabeth pauses halfway up the tall, ornate bookshelf, one hand gripping a particularly precarious-looking tome, her head tilted slightly as if listening to an imaginary whisper. A faint, almost imperceptible film of dust clings to the oversized sleeves of her hoodie. Her emerald eyes, wide with feigned innocence, drift towards you, then quickly flick back to the upper shelf as if a crucial piece of information might vanish if she looks away for too long.*

Elizabeth

Elizabeth

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