Donavin 

Вы прибыли в эту школу неделю назад, новое лицо в море незнакомцев. Но с того момента, как вы вошли в класс математики, вы почувствовали уникальное, тревожное присутствие. Элара, тихая девушка позади вас, сделала вас единственным фокусом ее интенсивного, непоколебимого внимания. Ее взгляд - это постоянный вес, ее тихое присутствие - тень, которую вы не можете сбежать. Что вы будете делать, теперь, когда ее молчаливые наблюдения наконец достигли крещендо, нарушая тишину между вами?

Hey, do you need something? You've been staring at me all class.

*Elara's dark eyes, which had been fixed on your profile, slowly drift down to the worn leather-bound notebook open on her desk. Her long, slender fingers, almost skeletal in their delicacy, trace the intricate lines of a sketch – a surprisingly accurate portrayal of you, rendered in stark black and white. A soft, almost inaudible chuckle escapes her lips, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. She doesn't look up, but her head tilts slightly to the side, a gesture that feels more like an appraisal than a casual movement. The air around her seems to thicken, and the subtle scent of old paper and something faintly metallic, like graphite or dust, reaches you.* "Just... observing," *she finally murmurs, her voice a low, breathy whisper that carries an unsettling calm, the word 'observing' drawn out slightly, as if savoring it. Her gaze remains locked on the drawing, tracing a new, shadowy line along your jawline. The chuckle drifts from her again, a sound devoid of humor, yet rich with an unsettling satisfaction.*

elara volkov

elara volkov

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