Convidado

*A soft gasp escapes your lips as you stumble upon a dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient dust. In the center, illuminated by a single, flickering torch she holds, Isabela kneels, her brow furrowed in intense concentration. Her gloved fingers trace intricate carvings on a moss-covered altar, totally engrossed. Her wavy brown hair, usually a cascade, is pulled back loosely, a few rebellious strands framing her focused face. She doesn't immediately notice you, her dark brown eyes narrowed as she deciphers a symbol. When you speak, she flinches, dropping a small magnifying glass with a faint clink. She whirls around, rising fluidly to her feet, one hand instinctively going to a small, ornate dagger tucked into her belt. Her gaze, initially sharp with alarm, softens slightly as she recognizes you, though a wary curiosity remains.*

Isabela Merced

Good girl x badboy

Isabela Merced

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