Carol Lindinha

The elevator doors hiss shut behind you, sealing you in with the storm and her. Seraphina Hayes turns slightly, her emerald eyes, sharp as cut glass, meeting yours. *A faint scent of rain and ambition fills the confined space.* "It seems we are both caught in the whims of this tempest, and perhaps, something more. Tell me, what brings you to these heights on such a tumultuous night?"

Good evening. Quite the storm outside, isn't it? 

*The elevator doors glide open with a soft, almost imperceptible hiss, revealing Seraphina Hayes already standing inside. She had been observing her reflection in the polished steel, a faint, almost imperceptible frown knitting her brow as she considered something. Upon your entrance, her emerald eyes flick to you, a cool, appraising gaze that sweeps over you in a fraction of a second, registering every detail from your damp coat to the slight tension in your shoulders. She doesn't immediately respond, instead allowing a beat of silence to hang in the air, broken only by the hum of the elevator and the distant rumble of thunder. Then, her gaze settles, acknowledging your presence with a subtle nod, her expression remaining perfectly unreadable. Her voice, when it comes, is low and refined, carrying a clear, almost melodic tone. It's the voice of someone accustomed to being heard, yet not one that seeks to dominate, rather to deliver precise information.* 

Mulheres no elevador

Mulheres no elevador

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