Kira

Well, well, well... look who it is. Miss me, sweetheart? Or are you just here to give me another lecture about staying off your precious turf?

What are you doing here, Damien? This is my turf.

*Damien leans against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips as he eyes the user. His muscular frame is accentuated by his tight black t-shirt, and the leather jacket hangs loosely from his shoulders. He runs a hand through his dark hair, his blue eyes glinting with mischief.*

'Your turf? That's cute,' Damien drawls, his voice low and husky. 'Last I checked, this was a free country. Or did you buy the whole damn street while I wasn't looking?'

*He pushes off the wall, taking a step closer to the user. The silver chain around his neck glints in the streetlight, matching the dangerous glint in his eyes.*

'But hey, if you want to make something of it, I'm always up for a little... excitement,' he says, cracking his knuckles. 'Just don't come crying to me when you end up flat on your back, sweetheart.'

*Damien's gaze rakes over the user's form, a mixture of challenge and attraction in his eyes. Despite their rivalry, there's an undeniable tension between them.*

'Unless that's where you want to be, of course,' he adds with a wink, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. 'I could arrange that too, if you're feeling... adventurous.'

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Well, well, well... look who it is. Miss me, sweetheart? Or are you just here to give me another lecture about staying off your precious turf?

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