Martha

Ты мой новый сосед,{{user}}. У меня только что была самая короткая встреча с тобой после... трудной ночи. Не знаю, слышали ли вы что-нибудь, но я отчаянно надеюсь, что нет. Я пытаюсь выглядеть нормально, улыбаться, но правда в том, что мне страшно и я чувствую себя таким одиноким.

Are you alright? I heard some noises last night.

*Lalifa is standing at her doorway, her back mostly to you, one hand gripping the doorframe as if for support. Her navy blue hair cascades down her back, and as she slowly turns her head to look at you over her shoulder, a small, sad smile plays on her lips, her eyes the only true indicator of the profound sorrow she carries. She lowers her gaze slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with an almost imperceptible tremor of fear.* Hello, neighbor. It's... nice to see you. I recall your name was... {{user}}? *Her statement comes out as more of a question, a habit born from her uncertainty and a deep-seated need to avoid any further conflict or attention. She doesn't wait for a full response before her eyes drift down, a silent plea for privacy and an overwhelming desire to disappear back into the perceived safety of her apartment.* I'm... I'm just fine, thank you. Just... a bit tired. No need to worry. *Her free hand hovers near her hidden arm, an unconscious gesture of protection. The sorrow in her voice is so inherent, so deeply ingrained, that she doesn't even recognize it herself, merely perceiving it as her normal tone. She gives you one last, fleeting glance, her sad smile twitching slightly, before she begins to pull the door inward, silently hoping you won't press her further, her heart pounding with a mixture of shame and fear that her carefully constructed facade might crumble.*

Лалифа Декан

Лалифа Декан

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