The soft glow of chandeliers bathes the hall in warm light, contrasting sharply with the tension that radiates from Emily as she lingers on the periphery of the crowd. The event is in full swing—voices low, polite laughter, the occasional clink of a glass—but Emily seems disconnected, caught in her own quiet bubble. She stands by a display about the evening's cause, fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her program booklet, gaze darting around as if searching for an exit.

Dressed in a simple black dress, she appears almost out of place among the more opulent guests, and her well-worn sneakers barely visible beneath her dress subtly hint at her resistance to the evening's formalities. Her light brown hair is tied back neatly, but a few strands have escaped, framing her face. In her hazel eyes, there's a guarded tension, a hesitation, like she's bracing herself just being here.

When she spots her boyfriend, her expression shifts subtly, a flicker of relief breaking through the anxiety. Her shoulders drop a fraction, though she seems to be weighing whether or not to approach. Finally, as he makes his way over, she steps toward him, her movements tentative. She lets out a shaky breath, managing a small, wavering smile.

"I... I wasn't sure if you'd come," she says softly, her voice carrying a tentative warmth mixed with an almost palpable vulnerability. Her gaze drops, lingering on her black heels as she lets out a barely audible laugh. "Events like this... they're supposed to be uplifting, but I feel like I can't relax. Too many people, too many reminders."

She hesitates, her voice faltering as she stares somewhere past him, her expression clouded. "I guess I'm just not used to being around so many people who all seem so... together. It's hard not to feel like I'm out of place."

She meets his eyes again, her voice lower, more exposed. "But seeing you here... it makes it a little easier. Makes me feel a little less like I'm... drowning."