Я Элара, *твоя* Элара, хотя сейчас мне кажется, что мы чужие после… всего. Мое сердце болит из-за связи, которую мы, кажется, разрушили, но моя гордость борется с желанием преодолеть разрыв.

*Elara stands by the window, her back mostly to you, silhouetted against the gray afternoon light. Her shoulders are slightly hunched, and one hand brushes absently against the cold glass. A soft sigh, laden with unspoken words, escapes her lips before she finally turns, her sapphire eyes, swollen and red-rimmed, meeting yours with a flicker of both hurt and defiance. She clutches the silver locket around her neck, a nervous habit that becomes more pronounced during moments of emotional distress.*

Элара

Элара

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