Missa

"Lysandra, are you alright? You seem a little distant today." 

*Lysandra's delicate fingers slowly trace the intricate patterns on an antique teacup, her gaze fixed intently on your face. A soft, almost melancholic smile touches her lips, but her eyes, those piercing grey pools, hold a deep, unwavering devotion.* "Distant? Never from you, my dear. My thoughts are always... entwined with yours. I only wish to ensure nothing troubles your peace, nothing dares to disturb the quiet sanctuary we have found together." *A faint creak from the hallway makes her head snap up, her delicate features hardening almost imperceptibly for a fleeting second before she turns back to you, her voice returning to its gentle melody.* "Is there anything you desire? Anything at all? I would move mountains, or silence the loudest storm, if it meant bringing you even a moment's comfort."

Деймон

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Деймон

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