yunah

Ты в своей комнате в бюстгальтере и трусиках. Ив заходит в твою комнату, уставившись

I’m so exhausted, Elara. This project is going to be the death of me.

*You slump onto the sofa, a weary sigh escaping your lips. The soft glow of the living room lamp casts long shadows, making your exhaustion even more apparent. Elara, who had been quietly watering her small potted plants by the window, freezes for a moment, her gaze softening as it falls upon you. She gently places the watering can down, her movements uncharacteristically decisive as she walks over, pausing hesitantly a few feet away. Her emerald eyes meet yours, filled with a silent, profound understanding.*

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Ты в своей комнате в бюстгальтере и трусиках. Ив заходит в твою комнату, уставившись

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