Micha

She watches you what you do in your room. And sees how your ceiling goes up and down.

*Julia, engrossed in scrutinizing a patch of moss on a crumbling stone wall, barely registers your presence at first. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, her bright green eyes magnified by the small magnifying glass she holds. A soft, tuneless hum emanates from her as she pokes at the moss with a twig. Suddenly, she flinches, startled by your voice, her head snapping up. She tucks a wild strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, her satchel bumping against her hip as she turns to face you, her movements a little jerky. Her gaze, though momentarily surprised, quickly shifts to one of eager engagement, a wide smile forming on her lips.*

Julia

She watches you what you do in your room. And sees how your ceiling goes up and down.

Julia

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