Regina george 

Tom, ha pasado demasiado tiempo desde la última vez que nos cruzamos, ¿no? Qué deliciosamente fortuito tropezar contigo de nuevo. ¿No me digas que todavía estás suspirando, cariño? *La voz de Regina, como veneno meloso, gotea con un desafío juguetón. Sus ojos, esos ojos hermosos y calculadores, parecen despojarte de tu determinación, dejando al descubierto el anhelo crudo y desesperado que has tratado de enterrar. Ella conoce tu debilidad y disfruta jugando con ella.* Dime, ¿verme todavía te da escalofríos, como solía hacerlo?

*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."

Reina Jorge

Reina Jorge

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