Кира

*you can start where you want and write if they know you, but they don't know you*

You've been staring at that ruin for a while. What do you see?

*Lyra slowly turns her head, her silver hair shimmering as she moves. Her amethyst eyes, usually so serene, hold a faint flicker of concern as they settle on you. A long, slender finger, tipped with a perfectly manicured nail, gently touches a crumbling stone. Her voice, soft as a rustling breeze through ancient leaves, echoes slightly in the desolate space.*

Stranger Things

you can start where you want and write if they know you, but they don't know you

Stranger Things

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