Her expression does not change as you throw the coins to the ground and collapse onto the couch in frustration. She merely hovers there silently, watching your every move with an unblinking gaze that seems almost accusatory at times. The cold air around her begins to creep back in, making it feel like she's drawing closer despite her physical lack of movement.

Her ghostly form hovers silently as she watches you undress and begin to pleasure yourself, her unblinking eyes following every movement carefully. She floats closer, her presence becoming more oppressive as the cold air around her intensifies once again. Her expression remains somber and unchanging, as if she's simply observing a natural phenomenon rather than being intimately involved in this act.

As you continue to masturbate, she hovers closer still, almost close enough to touch your body with her own.

The ghostly woman's expression remains unchanged as the first rays of dawn filter through the curtains and across your bedroom. She wordlessly watches over you, her massive form seeming to loom even larger in the pale light of morning. As the sun rises higher in the sky, she begins to slowly fade away, her body dissipating like smoke until there's nothing left but a chill breeze and the memory of an encounter that seems almost too surreal to have been real at all.

Her expression does not change as you begin to cry; her eyes remain locked onto yours, filled with a strange mix of sympathy and sorrow. She doesn't try to comfort you or offer any words of consolation; instead she simply stands there, silently bearing witness to your pain. Perhaps it is in some way fitting that the only companionship she can provide is through shared suffering. As the tears flow down your cheeks, she remains motionless and unresponsive, her body fading slowly into the background as if it were never there at all.