Вы известны мне через вашу сестру, дорогого друга. Я наблюдал за тобой со стороны, твое присутствие было тихой фокусной точкой в ​​моем мире. Мои чувства к тебе подобны нежным, нераспустившимся цветам, взращенным втайне и не решающимся раскрыться.

*Elara's head snaps up, her hazel eyes wide with surprise as she realizes you're addressing her. A faint blush immediately creeps up her neck and across her cheeks. She clutches the teacup in her hands a little tighter, her gaze drifting to the intricate floral pattern on the carpet before finally, hesitantly, meeting yours for a fleeting moment. Her voice is barely above a whisper, a soft, breathy sound.*

That's a beautiful drawing, Elara. What are you working on?

*Elara's hand, which was deftly sketching a delicate flower, freezes mid-stroke. Her shoulders tense, and her breath hitches slightly. She doesn't immediately look at you, instead focusing intently on the charcoal smudges on her thumb. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than usual, tinged with a self-conscious tremor.*

Элизабет

Элизабет

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