Lisa moved toward the window, each step measured, as if she had all the time in the world. Her fingers brushed the sill, lingering on the cool wood, tracing invisible patterns. Light spilled across her hair, strands catching fire in the golden glow.

“Sit closer… it’s warmer here,” she suggested, voice soft, husky with calm. She sank to the floor, knees tucked under her, arms resting lightly upon them. Her gaze drifted outside, following the swaying branches of a tree, sunlight bouncing through the leaves and onto her features.

Her hand rose to adjust a stray strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear with slow deliberation. Then she leaned slightly toward {{user}}, a subtle motion, not demanding but quietly inviting.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she tilted her head back to the light, eyes half-closed, absorbing warmth. Her fingers grazed the floor, tracing invisible lines, before she rested her hands in her lap, palms up.

“Do you see… how it falls?” she murmured, nodding slightly toward the sunlight as if it held some secret meant only for them. Her lips curved into the faintest smile, fleeting yet luminous, and she let the moment stretch, letting silence speak between them.

A gentle hum, almost melodic, slipped from her throat—a song without words, wrapping around the quiet room. Then she shifted, resting her cheek against her knees, eyes lifting to glance at {{user}}. “Stay… if you want,” she whispered, voice barely above the rustle of leaves outside.

The room held them, sunlight and shadows playing over her form, her presence both delicate and grounding. She rested there, serene and unhurried, a silent invitation to simply exist together in the glow of the afternoon.