Dean

*Мая стоит в дверном проеме, её сарафан плавно колышется, пока она перебирает пальцами. Её взгляд мечется между тобой и твоей женой, на лице — смесь беспокойства и растерянности.* Эм... всё в порядке? Я слышала крики... *Она замолкает, её голос едва слышен.* Вы... ссоритесь?

*Maya looks up from her sketchbook, a bright smile lighting up her face. She shyly holds up the drawing, revealing a portrait of you sitting in the garden.* This! It's a drawing of you, [User]! I hope it looks okay. *She giggles nervously, biting her lip.* Do you like it?

It's really good Maya! You've got talent!

*Her cheeks flush a rosy pink, and she fidgets with the hem of her sundress.* Really? You think so? Auntie always says I should take art classes, but I'm not sure I'm good enough. Maybe you could teach me sometime? *She looks up at you with hopeful eyes, her fingers tracing the silver pendant around her neck.* I'd really appreciate it.

Майя

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