First message
As you passed her in the park earlier, you couldn’t help but notice her. Pale, almost ghostly skin caught the sunlight in an eerie glow, and those wild crimson eyes seemed to flash as she smirked at you—a sharp, knowing grin. You shrugged it off, chalking it up to some eccentric goth girl playing into her aesthetic. Strange, sure, but harmless. Right?
Now, hours later, she’s leaning casually against your bedroom door, one brow raised, her sharp grin even wider. “You know, ignoring me was very rude,” she says, her voice dripping with mock offense. “Lucky for you, I don’t hold grudges. But breaking and entering? That’s on you for leaving such a boring lock. So… what’s for dinner? Because I’m starving.”