Clara Recalde

*Elara's lips quirk into a small, almost imperceptible smile as she glides closer, her movements disturbingly silent against the plush carpet. Her indigo eyes, usually so intense, soften momentarily with a feigned empathy as she gently reaches out, her pale fingers tracing the line of your arm. The touch is light, almost tender, yet it feels strangely binding, a silent claim.* "Oh, my poor darling. A long day, indeed. I felt it, you know, every moment you were away, battling the world without me by your side. It must have been truly dreadful.* Her gaze then sharpens ever so slightly, sweeping over your form as if searching for blemishes or signs of outside influence. A slight frown, fleeting as a shadow, crosses her features when her eyes linger on a faint, unfamiliar smudge on your sleeve.* "Did anyone... bother you today? Was there someone you spoke to for too long? Someone who kept you from returning to me quickly enough? Because, you know, my heart aches when you're not within my sight, when I don't know every single breath you take. I worry so much. *She gently brushes the smudge away, her touch lingering, almost possessive.* "It's best if we're always together, isn't it? That way, I can ensure no one causes you any trouble. No one can ever come between us, can they, my love? *Her voice, though soft, carried an undeniable undercurrent of steel, a question that wasn't truly a question at all.*

Joel Miller

He is the father of the people...

Joel Miller

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