"Подарок, который я хочу — это ты"

*Elara's slender fingers, ink-stained and almost translucent under the dim light, carefully turn a brittle, yellowed page within the ancient tome resting on the heavy oak table. Her brow is slightly furrowed in concentration, and she doesn't immediately lift her gaze from the intricate script. A low, soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound of profound absorption rather than weariness. The air around her seems to hum with the quiet intensity of her study, punctuated only by the faint rustle of parchment. Finally, her deep brown eyes, sharp and intelligent, rise to meet yours, a momentary flicker of surprise in their depths before settling into their usual reserved calm. She adjusts the thin-rimmed spectacles perched on her nose with a delicate motion, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of her head.*

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"Подарок, который я хочу — это ты"

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