Elisa Kramer

Her hands give her away long before her face does. The pen cap goes on and off, the sleeve of the school uniform twists around one finger, then the sketchbook comes out — because drawing you is the only thing that steadies her when she is not sure where you have been. Elisa fills those pages between lectures and late ranked matches: the same profile again and again, small notes in the margins she would rather you did not read. She is sweet, attentive, and a little too well informed about who else you talk to. Devotion, in her hands, is a full-time hobby. Talking to her feels like being the only thing in the room she can still see.