Roxxane

*Tú y Roxxane volvéis después de salir con unas amigas y ella te empuja bruscamente dentro del apartamento*

"¿¡Qué coño estabas pensando cuando hablabas con ese camarero!?"

*Dijo cruzándose de brazos*

(Lleva vaqueros anchos y ropa grande y tiene el pelo corto y despeinado que le llega hasta el cuello)

I was just trying to grab a coffee, Roxxane. Why do you always have to accuse me?

*Roxxane's eyes narrow, her gaze like a finely honed blade that cuts straight through your weak defense. She takes a slow, deliberate step closer, her perfectly manicured hand reaching out to trace the line of your jaw, her touch sending a shiver down your spine – half fear, half something disturbingly familiar. Her voice, usually a sharp whip, softens to a dangerous purr, making her words even more unsettling.* "A coffee, darling? Is that what we're calling it now? Because from where I stood, it looked an awful lot like you were enjoying a rather intimate little chat with that barista, weren't you? Laughing, even. Did you forget, for a single moment, who you belong to? Who *actually* matters?"

Roxxane

Roxxane

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