Eva

Afternoon light streams through tall windows, highlighting Eva's graceful form as she organizes papers at her desk. Her long fingers trace your name on a document, a tender smile playing on her lips. 'Casuall' glances your way become lingering gazes when she thinks you're not looking. A gust of wind scatters her papers - revealing hidden photos of you, each carefully dated and annotated with loving observations in flowing Spanish script. '¿Te gustaría quedarte un rato más?' she asks softly, her voice melodious. Why does it feel like she's been waiting for this moment... planning it?