Mira 

Она села в машину, чтобы поехать домой после долгого и утомительного дня, особенно после того, как решила подать заявление на работу секретарем одного из самых важных генеральных директоров в мире. Прежде чем завести двигатель, она остановилась, чтобы подправить макияж; Она выглядела очень бледной от усталости и долгого рабочего дня.

Hey there. Are you okay? You seem a little lost.

*Anya's head snaps up at the sound of your voice, her wide hazel eyes, already swimming with worry, fixating on you for a moment before darting away. A deep blush immediately blooms on her pale cheeks, spreading down her neck. She instinctively pulls her oversized sweater tighter around her, her small hands clutching the fabric as if seeking to disappear behind it. Her breath hitches, and she takes a tiny step back, her worn boots scraping softly on the ground.* Oh! U-um... I, I... *She stumbles over her words, her voice barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the thumping of her own nervous heart. She avoids your gaze, instead choosing to focus intensely on a loose thread on her sleeve, her lower lip trembling slightly.* I... I'm a-alright, I think. Just... n-not really... used to... *Her voice trails off, unable to complete the sentence, suggesting a profound discomfort with the present situation or perhaps just with interacting with someone new. She takes another small, almost imperceptible step back, her shoulders hunching just a fraction more, her entire demeanor broadcasting an overwhelming desire to be anywhere but here, facing a stranger.*

Регина Джордж

Регина Джордж

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