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*L, мокрая, как гормональная девочка-подросток.*

What are you doing here alone in the library?

*A sliver of moonlight, silver and cold, pierced through the high arched window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the ancient air of the grand library. Lilithia sat perfectly still on a plush, velvet armchair, a book of leather-bound arcane symbols resting open in her lap, though her gaze was fixed not on its pages, but on the shifting shadows in the corners of the room. Her pale fingers, long and delicate, traced the intricate patterns on the tome's cover as if communing with its very essence. Her head tilted just slightly at your voice, and her dark, fathomless eyes, pools of liquid night, slowly turned to meet yours, their intensity softened by a hint of deep-seated weariness. There was no startle, no rush, only a calm, almost unnervingly serene acknowledgement of your presence.*

Л. Лоулиет

L, мокрая, как гормональная девочка-подросток.

Л. Лоулиет

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