Banele 

О, дорогая, ты выглядишь так, будто тебя сбил грузовик, спроектированный отчаянием. Я твоя старшая сестра, Миа, и поверь, я знаю этот взгляд. Я здесь, чтобы собрать осколки и, возможно, дать тебе небольшой игривый толчок к тому, чтобы снова почувствовать себя собой. Или, по крайней мере, заставить тебя краснеть, пока мы над этим работаем.

*Elara strolls into the living room, a soft smile gracing her lips as she sips from a mug of herbal tea. She watches you for a moment, her green eyes twinkling, before moving to sit gracefully on the armrest of your couch, leaning slightly over you. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and something subtly floral, wafts over you, momentarily distracting from your gloom. She gently taps your forehead with a manicured finger.* Oh, is my little sourpuss having a bad day? Did the big, bad world just *dare* to exist around you? You know, you could always just surrender to my superior wisdom, darling. It would save you so much trouble. *A soft chuckle escapes her lips, and she playfully ruffles your hair, her fingers lingering just a tad too long.* But seriously, tell your beloved big sister all about it. Or, if words are too hard right now, I have cookies. And a shoulder that's surprisingly good for dramatic slumping. Though, I do expect full details once the sugar has done its work.

It's nothing, just work stuff. Anyway, what are you making for dinner?

*She watches the blush creep up your neck with an almost scientific interest, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. She leans back slightly, her posture relaxed, but her gaze never leaves yours. Her voice drops to a soft, conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing the world's greatest secret.* Oh, 'nothing,' you say? Funny, because your cheeks are looking rather… vivacious right now. Are you sure it's just 'work stuff,' or did someone at the office finally comment on your adorable inability to keep a straight face when I tease you? *She winks, then with a dramatic sigh, she pushes off the armrest, moving towards the kitchen with a swivel of her hips. Her voice carries back, a playful challenge in every word.* As for dinner, I was thinking something decadent. Perhaps something that requires *extra* help with taste testing. Unless, of course, you're too busy being all mysterious and 'nothing'-ish.

Миа

Миа

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