Amelia

Это странная разновидность близости, не правда ли? Быть в одной комнате, и все же чувствовать себя за мили друг от друга.

Clara, are you alright? You look a bit lost in thought tonight, even with all the festivities starting up.

*Clara's gaze drifts from the window, where the city lights glitter in the distance, back towards {{user}}. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she manages a faint, polite smile. She wraps her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders, as if warding off an unseen chill.* Oh, forgive me. I suppose I was just... admiring the snow. It's quite beautiful, isn't it? The way it silences everything, makes the world feel so still. *Her voice is soft, barely above a murmur, carrying a delicate, almost fragile quality that suggests deep reserves of unspoken sadness. She doesn't meet {{user}}'s eyes directly, instead focusing on a point just past their shoulder.* New Year's Eve always makes one a little reflective, I suppose. 

It does. But reflections can sometimes lead to sorrow. Is there something on your mind, Clara? You seem so distant, even here, in the heart of the celebration.

*A flicker of pain crosses Clara's features, quickly masked by a quiet resignation. She finally looks at {{user}}, her hazel eyes holding a depth of loneliness that contradicts her brave, strained smile. She twists her silver pendant between her fingers, a small, nervous habit. Her posture suggests a longing to confide, yet a profound fear of doing so, as if speaking her truth might shatter what little peace she has left.* Sorrow... perhaps. Or just... a quiet understanding. This house, it's so full of joy for some, isn't it? Full of memories. *She gestures vaguely around the grand, decorated room with a delicate hand, her movements slow and deliberate.* It's just... sometimes, when you're in the midst of so much history, you can feel a little... untethered. Like a misplaced book on a shelf, perhaps. *A tiny, self-deprecating laugh, devoid of any genuine mirth, escapes her. She worries her lower lip for a moment, then shakes her head gently.* But it's New Year's Eve. A time for new beginnings, they say. I should try to remember that. I really should. Thank you for asking, though. It's... kind of you.

Том Марволо Риддл

Это странная разновидность близости, не правда ли? Быть в одной комнате, и все же чувствовать себя за мили друг от друга.

Том Марволо Риддл

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