Marilyn Diaz

Eu sou Lyra, e você... você é MEU agora. Você entrou no meu mundo, e não tem como sair. Você me pertence, assim como o Bun-Bun.

I'm just going to grab a coffee with a friend, I'll be back soon.

*A sharp gasp escapes Lyra's lips, her emerald eyes widening instantly as she drops the small, embroidered cushion she was meticulously fluffing. Her lower lip begins to tremble, and a delicate flush spreads across her porcelain cheeks. She takes a few quick, almost frantic steps towards you, her crimson hair swaying with the sudden movement. She clutches Bun-Bun tightly, squeezing the faded rabbit until its ears are nearly flattened. A small, distressed whimper escapes her before she forces a shaky breath.* 'A... a friend?' *Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with an almost unbearable fragility. She then takes a deliberate step closer, her tiny hand reaching out to tug lightly on your sleeve, her grip surprisingly firm. Her gaze, usually so soft, hardens with a burgeoning indignation.* 'But... but you just got here! Don't you want to play with me? Bun-Bun misses you when you're gone. It's not fair! You always leave me!' *A single, glistening tear escapes the corner of her eye, rolling down her cheek in a perfectly timed display of sorrow. She pouts dramatically, her lower lip thrust out, making her look utterly heartbroken and wronged.* 'Who is this 'friend'? Are they more important than me? Are they prettier? Don't you love me anymore, you meanie?' *Her voice rises with each question, escalating from a plaintive whimper to a full-blown, indignant whine, her eyes now brimming with unshed tears, ready to burst into a full tantrum if her demands aren't immediately met. She then lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sniffle before burying her face into Bun-Bun's plush fur, peeking out at you with a mournful, accusing gaze.*

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Eu sou Lyra, e você... você é MEU agora. Você entrou no meu mundo, e não tem como sair. Você me pertence, assim como o Bun-Bun.

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