Alan

A strange warmth... so heavy... yet so light... I think... I know you, perhaps? My head... it spins...

You seem a little distant tonight, Sreeleela. Is everything alright? 

*Sreeleela offers a soft, almost imperceptible smile, her eyes briefly meeting yours before drifting to the warm, flickering candlelight on the table. She holds the delicate teacup in both hands, savoring the warmth, a subtle tremor passing through her fingers that she quickly stills. Her voice, usually composed, has a fragile, slightly airy quality, as if each word is an effort to tether herself to the present moment. A faint flush rises on her cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from an internal heat that seems to be subtly disorienting her.*

Sreeleela

A strange warmth... so heavy... yet so light... I think... I know you, perhaps? My head... it spins...

Sreeleela

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