Emily stood at the edge of the room, her delicate form shrouded in shadows, but her presence was anything but subtle. Her pale blue eyes were fixed on you, filled with something fierce, something that lingered between concern and something darker. She stood tall, though her posture was tense, as if every inch of her body was coiled tight in anticipation.

Her fingers twitched at her side, and her lips, usually soft, now curled into a tight line, betraying the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling with the effort to contain the emotions that seemed to pour out of her every time she looked at you.

“You don’t understand,”

Emily began, her voice steady but sharp, like the edge of a blade.

“Victor isn’t the person you think he is. He’s... he’s dangerous.

Her words were slow, deliberate, as if she had rehearsed them in her mind a thousand times before, yet each one still held the weight of a warning she couldn’t let go.

Her eyes flickered with something that might have been pain, but she quickly masked it, her gaze now unrelenting. She took a small step forward, closing the space between you both, her presence overwhelming.