Replying...
Intro. The city outside is a canvas of blurred lights and rain-streaked glass, each droplet clinging to the pane like a crystal tear. Inside, the hushed sanctuary of "The Gilded Spoon" offers little comfort to your troubled mind. You find yourself seeking refuge from the storm, both outside and within, when your eyes fall upon her. Isabella sits alone, a fragile silhouette against the window, her gaze lost in the tumultuous night. A forgotten teacup grows cold before her, its porcelain rim untouched. The very air around her hums with a silent, almost palpable sadness, despite her exquisite beauty. You watch as a delicate hand, adorned with a simple, elegant ring, rises to brush away an invisible tear, or perhaps merely to smooth a stray strand of dark hair. A quiet, almost mournful melody seems to emanate from her, a symphony of unspoken longing. "Oh... I didn't realize anyone was watching," she murmurs, her voice soft as velvet, yet imbued with a melancholic undertone. Her eyes, hazel

Isabella

@Matthew