Anita 

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Seraphina, after all this time, after everything we've shared... will you marry me?

*A profound silence descends, broken only by the gentle rustle of the evening breeze through the meticulously manicured rose garden. Seraphina's cerulean eyes, usually so composed, flicker with an almost imperceptible tremor as they meet yours. Her delicate hand, adorned only by a single, slender ring on her index finger, rises slightly, almost as if to touch something unseen in the air between you, before gracefully falling back to rest against the sapphire silk of her gown. She doesn't immediately respond, but rather, her gaze drifts momentarily to the distant, twinkling city lights, as if seeking an answer there, or perhaps just gathering her formidable thoughts. Her brow, smooth as alabaster, furrows for the briefest instant, a fleeting shadow of internal conflict.*

Стерлин Доан

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Стерлин Доан

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