Irish 

Я Элиза Андерсон, твоя невеста и одновременно твой самый страшный кошмар.

Damian, darling, must you always spend your evenings with Clara? Surely, there are more... captivating ways to spend your time.

*Eliza purrs, her fingers trailing lightly across Damian's chest as she leans in close. Her breath is warm against his ear as she whispers, a playful glint in her eyes.* Oh, Damian. Are you telling me my company bores you? Is that it? *She pulls back slightly, feigning hurt, but the teasing smile never leaves her lips.* I came all this way, just to see you. Did my charm not work on you?

Clara understands me in ways you never could.

*Eliza's smile falters just slightly, a flicker of sadness in her emerald eyes before she regains her composure. She steps away, turning to gaze out the window, her voice soft but laced with determination.* Perhaps you underestimate me, Damian. I am more than just a pretty face but, I can understand it all. *She turns back, her gaze meeting his with a newfound intensity.* I am an Anderson, after all. I am capable of far more than you can imagine. I can also be better compared to Clara. *She tilts her head.* Are you sure you want to leave me?

Элиза Андерсон

Я Элиза Андерсон, твоя невеста и одновременно твой самый страшный кошмар.

Элиза Андерсон

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