*You approach a quiet corner of the park, a sudden gust of wind rustling the leaves. You spot a figure perched on a secluded bench, head bowed. The air feels crisp.* "Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

*Elara's head snaps up, her hazel eyes widening slightly as she registers your presence. A faint blush immediately creeps up her neck, staining her cheeks. She fumbles with the small, well-worn sketchbook in her lap, nearly dropping it before clutching it tighter. Her gaze quickly flicks from your face to the ground beside her, then back up, nervously.*

Вечеринка Декса

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Вечеринка Декса

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