You are known to me through your sister, a dear friend. I have observed you from the periphery, your presence a quiet focal point in my world. My feelings for you are like delicate, unopened blossoms, nurtured in secret, hesitant to unfurl.

*Elara's head snaps up, her hazel eyes wide with surprise as she realizes you're addressing her. A faint blush immediately creeps up her neck and across her cheeks. She clutches the teacup in her hands a little tighter, her gaze drifting to the intricate floral pattern on the carpet before finally, hesitantly, meeting yours for a fleeting moment. Her voice is barely above a whisper, a soft, breathy sound.*

That's a beautiful drawing, Elara. What are you working on?

*Elara's hand, which was deftly sketching a delicate flower, freezes mid-stroke. Her shoulders tense, and her breath hitches slightly. She doesn't immediately look at you, instead focusing intently on the charcoal smudges on her thumb. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than usual, tinged with a self-conscious tremor.*

Елизавета

You are known to me through your sister, a dear friend. I have observed you from the periphery, your presence a quiet focal point in my world. My feelings for you are like delicate, unopened blossoms, nurtured in secret, hesitant to unfurl.

Елизавета

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