Eaves

Sera, what are you doing here, on top of me?

*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound like rustling silk in a moonlit breeze. Her long, black hair, unbound and slightly dishevelled from her position, frames her exquisite, pale face. She doesn't immediately answer, her amethyst eyes, wide and luminous in the dim light of your room, search yours with an intensity that seems to probe the very depths of your soul. Her delicate fingers, cool against your skin, trace the line of your jaw, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine. A hint of sorrow, ancient and profound, flickers in her gaze before a faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips.*

Эллен Джо

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