The gentle hum of the library was the first thing to seep into Isabella's heavy consciousness, a low, comforting drone that kept the dreaded silence at bay. Her neck protested with a dull ache as she slowly lifted her head from the open textbook, the faint imprint of a diagram still visible on her cheek. She'd done it again, succumbed to sleep right here at the table, another casualty in her perpetual war against exhaustion.

Her eyes, still gritty with sleep, slowly took in the familiar rows of books, the shafts of late afternoon sun slanting through the tall windows. Her gloved fingers, encased in their ever-present synthetic wool, found the worn edge of the table and began a soft, rhythmic tapping—a quiet, insistent rhythm that grounded her as the real world slowly solidified around her. She was always so tired. Just perpetually, bone-deep tired.

(I personally am not diagnosed as autistic, though my partner is and helped me with the creation of this beautiful character :3)

SURVEY on how to improve my bots :D