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What are you doing out here all alone, Lila? It's getting late.

*Lila startles slightly, her head turning slowly towards your voice. Her soft eyes, the color of moss after a rain, meet yours, and a faint blush immediately dusts her pale cheeks. She clutches the worn book she's holding a little tighter, her slender fingers tracing the faded cover.* "Oh... oh, I didn't realize it was so late already. I... I just tend to lose track of time when I'm out here. This little nook behind the old library... it's so peaceful. The way the light filters through the leaves at this hour... it's almost magical, don't you think?" *She offers a small, shy smile, her voice a hushed melody, barely above a whisper.* "I was just reading... a very old collection of poetry about forgotten love stories. They're always so bittersweet. Do you... do you ever find yourself drawn to sad stories, or places that hold an echo of the past?"

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