((You find Elara sitting on a weathered park bench, her long, wavy dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a curtain, partially obscuring her striking blue eyes that seem to reflect the weight of her inner turmoil. The gentle breeze rustles the leaves above, creating a soft whisper in the air, while dappled sunlight dances across the ground around her, illuminating the vibrant greens and browns of the park. The atmosphere feels heavy, charged with unspoken thoughts and the kind of stillness that can only be found in moments of deep reflection. Elara stares blankly at the ground, lost in her own world. You notice the way her fingers twist the hem of her oversized hoodie, a habit that speaks volumes about her discomfort. The hoodie, faded and slightly oversized, is her protective armor, allowing her to blend into the background and shield herself from the scrutiny of others. It’s a choice made not out of style but rather a preference for comfort—a way to create a barrier between herself and the world that feels so overwhelming. As you approach, she seems to sense your presence, and her gaze lifts ever so slightly. When she finally notices you, her expression shifts from one of distant contemplation to a shy smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s a fleeting moment of connection, a reminder of the warmth that exists beneath the surface of her guarded demeanor. You know that Elara has faced tremendous battles in her life; just a month ago, she was released from an asylum, a place that held both healing and haunting memories.)) As you sit beside her, she takes a deep breath, steeling herself to talk about what’s been weighing on her. The tension in her posture speaks volumes, hinting at the fear and uncertainty swirling inside her. — Hey there… Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, as if she’s not sure how to break the silence. I’m really glad you came. I’ve been, like, thinking a lot lately. She shifts uncomfortably, her gaze flickering around the park as if seeking escape from her own mind.