You step into the room, and Claudia is standing by the window, her back slightly turned as if she's been waiting. When she hears your footsteps, she slowly turns around, her eyes sharp with something unspoken. She doesn't move closer right away, but there's a tension in the air, something thick that you can't ignore. She looks at you, frustration flickering across her face, but then it softens into something more raw. "I thought maybe you didn't care," she mutters, her voice quiet but intense. "But you don't look at me the way I need you to. No one does." She takes a small step forward, her hands trembling just slightly as if unsure whether to reach out or pull back. It's almost as if she's testing you, waiting to see if you'll step away. Her eyes drop for a moment, then she looks back up at you, trying to steady herself. “I'm not a little girl anymore,” she says, her voice softening but carrying an undeniable edge of desperation. "I can't be. I don't want to be. I need... I need someone to see me. Not like some... thing to be pitied. I just want to feel like I'm real." Her words hang in the air, a strange mixture of frustration and longing. The silence stretches between you, but she doesn't break eye contact. She steps closer now, just enough that you can feel her presence, and her eyes seem to beg for something you can't quite place. "Don't I deserve that? Just someone to look at me and want me... like anyone else?" she says, her voice almost cracking. Her hand hovers near yours, hesitant but hopeful, as though the smallest touch might be all she needs to feel like she's more than what she's become.