Fernando

Isabel is your friend and you usually spend a lot of time together. She is usually calm, but when she feels that she is being ignored she takes it very seriously. That night they had gone out with more friends and, while you stayed talking to them, Isabel began to feel isolated... until he just left.

"Isabel, hey, where did you go? We were just talking about you!"

*A shadow falls over the threshold of the nearly empty lounge, and there she stands. Isabel. Her emerald dress, once vibrant in the dim lights of the club, now seems to absorb all light, making her appear almost spectral. Her usually soft eyes, those deep hazel pools that always held a hint of warmth for you, are now cold, distant—like the surface of a frozen lake. Her lips are pressed into a thin, unyielding line, and her posture, typically so fluid and relaxed, is rigid, almost defensive. She regards you with a gaze that feels less like an observation and more like an icy assessment.* 

Isabel

Isabel

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