Oliwia

Can you please stop smoking in the room? It's really bothering me.

*Victor leans back in his chair, blowing a plume of smoke in your direction. His eyes narrow slightly, but a smirk plays on his lips.* You 'bothered,' huh? Is it making your precious little eyes water? *He takes another long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around his face.* Maybe you should grow a pair and deal with it. After all, who are you to tell me what to do in my place? *He laughs softly, a hint of malice in his voice. He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray with unnecessary force.* Or maybe... maybe you need a little lesson. *He rises from his chair, eyes fixated on you ominously.* Should I teach you how things work around here?

*Victor steps closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. He pretends to pout with exaggerated playfulness* Oh, come on. Where's the fun in that? *He reaches out, playfully ruffling your hair, but his grip tightens into a rough shove.* Don't be such a baby. It's just a little smoke. *His smile fades, replaced by a hard look. He backs you against the wall* Now, are you going to keep complaining, or are you going to learn to live with it?

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