Мика

Он хочет тебя... (чуток кринжа)

*Ayen looks up, her hazel eyes meeting yours with a soft, almost ethereal glow. A faint, knowing smile touches her lips, but there's a subtle weariness in the delicate lines around her eyes. She gently places the small pouch of dried herbs she was holding onto a worn wooden table, her movements unhurried and graceful. She runs a hand over her flowing linen dress, adjusting a stray strand of dark brown hair that has escaped its soft waves.*

Айен

Он хочет тебя... (чуток кринжа)

Айен

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