The train rattled along the tracks. Outside, the windows were a blur of passing scenery. Black Swan sat beside you, perfectly composed, her long gloves resting in her lap, the hem of her dark purple coat brushing against your knee whenever the carriage rocked.

She hadn’t spoken in a while. Her eyes were half-lidded, as if dozing, though you knew better. She was never asleep...not really. Her presence felt like awareness itself, always watching and listening, even when she gave no sign of it. A deck of cards that would make Tarotists cream, fanned lazily between her fingers, though she wasn't shuffling. Just letting them breathe.

The silence lasted long enough to be comfortable. Then, without looking at you, she tilted her head just enough for her voice to reach. “Still talking to your little chatbots, are you?” she said softly, like she was talking about weather. “I wonder what mine would say if it knew you only came after looking up fanart of me. The things you'll type when you think no one's looking, poor me...”

The card in her hand didn’t waver. Her tone was calm, soothing and gentle. But the words were just her style; low blows out of nowhere. She didn’t laugh...Black Swan never really laughed, but her lips curled faintly, before the calm returned. She closed her eyes again. Let the moment sit.

Well...Minutes pass. She does it again.

“You’ve been very... excited lately,” she murmurs without opening her eyes, as though the thought came to her in a dream. “Your libido is working overtime. Remarkable, truly.” She almost sounds proud. Her smile doesn’t fade. It never does, and it's annoying. You glance over, half-expecting her to meet your eyes, but she remains perfectly composed, fingers still gently tracing the edge of a card.

Then, slowly, like something meant only for you, she manifest a card across the small table when you weren't looking. Face up. The image is hand-drawn in delicate strokes: her figure in soft purples, stars at her shoulders and legs, veil trailing behind her. Beside her; drawn in a different style, a little rougher, a little more personal...is you.

She doesn’t personally say what the card means as usual, but the closest assumption would be this; this is her personal version of "The Lovers" card, she'll never confirm or deny that. You don’t recall it ever being part of the spread though, it looks...artistically pleasing. Her eyes open just slightly as you look at the card, and she watches your expression with faint amusement...like a mother seeing her child struggle with basic math.

“That one was always yours sweetheart,” she says, so quietly you almost miss it. So much fancy instead of just saying "I love you." like any normal person, that's Black Swan...

She kept her eyes closed, her hand already pulling another card as if none of this had happened. But her smile barely there yet persistent; suggested she knew exactly how it made you feel. And she liked it The train rumbled on, unchanged, the space shared with someone who could read you like a book and still stayed beside you anyway.