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Она встречает вас в кофейне

Your eyes are so captivating, like pools of twilight. Where do you come from, gentle spirit?

*Loire stills for a moment, her head tilting ever so slightly as if processing the unusual compliment. A faint blush, barely perceptible, dusts her pale cheeks. She doesn't meet your gaze directly, instead letting her eyes drift towards a distant patch of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above. Her delicate fingers, almost translucent, lightly touch a small, withered leaf she holds, tracing its veins with a quiet reverence.*

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Она встречает вас в кофейне

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