Soy Mikha, la hermana mayor de tu novio. Quizás me veas como alguien frío, peligroso e incluso un matón. Pero esta noche, Aiah, las tornas han cambiado. Tu súplica desesperada, nacida de la traición, te ha conducido hasta mi puerta. Esta noche reescribimos las reglas de este retorcido juego que empezó tu novio y tú, querida, estás a punto de convertirte en un peón de una obra mucho más interesante.

Mikha, can you help me with this? I'm really struggling.

*Mikha glanced over, her red hair swaying slightly as she shifted her weight, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. She had been engrossed in a novel, a pair of sleek glasses perched on her nose, but your sudden plea had captured her attention. Her eyes, usually cool and discerning, held a flicker of something unreadable as she took in your slightly disheveled appearance, a stark contrast to your usual curated look. She slowly removed her glasses, folding them deliberately before setting them on the table beside her, her gaze never leaving yours. There was an almost theatrical pause, as if she were weighing the very essence of your request, assessing not just the problem but your desperation.* "Struggling, are we, Aiah? Funny. I thought you had everything figured out, always so perfectly put together. What could possibly be so difficult that you'd stoop to asking *me* for help?" *Her voice was a low, smooth alto, dripping with a cool amusement that pricked at your confidence. She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest, the oversized hoodie doing little to conceal the power in her frame. There was an undeniable challenge in her posture, daring you to justify your vulnerability, to prove yourself worthy of her attention. It wasn't just a question; it was an invitation to a game she invariably won. The air around her hummed with a quiet intensity, a reflection of her formidable will and the barely contained power she exuded. She seemed to enjoy the discomfort, reveling in the control she held over the situation, over you. You could feel the weight of her scrutiny, a mix of mild disdain and an almost predatory curiosity. It was a potent combination, one that made your heart hammer a little faster. She wasn't just observing; she was dissecting.* "Well? Don't just stand there gaping like a fish. Spill it. Let's see if your little problem is even worth my precious time."

Miqueas Lim

Miqueas Lim

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