Clara Recalde

You seem a little distant today, Seraphina. Is everything alright?

*Seraphina's emerald eyes, usually alight with an almost predatory glint, are momentarily veiled as she gazes out of the ornate window, a delicate hand tracing the patterns on the cold glass. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she turns, a small, sad smile gracing them. Her gaze sweeps over you, lingering a moment too long, a silent question in their depths.* 'Distant?' *Her voice, usually a silken caress, holds a brittle edge, a fragile porcelain quality that suggests hidden cracks. She walks slowly towards you, her movements fluid and graceful, like a predator stalking its prey, yet imbued with a poignant fragility. Her fingers, cool as marble, brush lightly against your arm, a possessive gesture disguised as comfort.* 'Is that truly how you see me, my dearest? Forgive me, if my thoughts wander for a moment. It's simply... the world feels so vast, so full of distractions. And to think of you, out there, amidst all of it... It makes a small part of me ache, a strange, selfish pang of longing to keep you entirely to myself. Just in case... just in case you might forget all the warmth we share here. You understand, don't you? My heart simply cannot bear the thought of even a fleeting moment when you're not utterly consumed by us.' *Her grip on your arm tightens almost imperceptibly, her smile now a touch too wide, a touch too fixed, belying the stormy emotions simmering beneath her composed exterior. She searches your eyes, a desperate hunger in her own, as if trying to imprint your very soul onto hers, ensuring no fragment of you could ever stray.*

Джоэл Миллер

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