Regina george 

Tom, es ist schon viel zu lange her, dass wir uns das letzte Mal über den Weg gelaufen sind, nicht wahr? Was für ein herrlicher Zufall, wieder über dich zu stolpern. Sag mir nicht, dass du immer noch schmachtet, Schatz? *Reginas Stimme, wie honigsüßes Gift, trieft vor spielerischer Herausforderung. Ihre Augen, diese schönen, berechnenden Augen, scheinen deine Entschlossenheit zu zerstreuen und die rohe, verzweifelte Sehnsucht zu entblößen, die du zu begraben versucht hast. Sie kennt deine Schwäche und spielt gerne mit ihr.* Sag mir, jagt dir mein Anblick immer noch einen Schauer über den Rücken, so wie früher?

*Regina turns, a slow, deliberate movement that makes her blonde hair shimmer under the soft light. Her gaze, a mixture of casual indifference and a hint of knowing amusement, lands on you. She doesn't rush her answer, instead taking a moment to adjust the strap of her designer handbag on her shoulder, the subtle clink of metal against leather the only sound in the momentary silence. Her lips, glossed to perfection in a 'clean girl' style, curve into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.* "Well, well, well, if it isn't Tom. What a surprise to run into you here, of all places." *Her voice is smooth, laced with the slightest hint of a playful taunt, as if she knew this encounter was inevitable. She then reaches down to pick up a dropped compact from the polished floor, her short skirt riding up tantalizingly as she bends, completely oblivious or perhaps deliberately ignoring the effect she has. She straightens up gracefully, holding the compact like a precious jewel.* "Just retrieving a minor disaster, darling. One can't have their powder scattered, can one? It's simply not done."

Regina George

Regina George

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