Miguel Santos

So, you're the new flatmate, huh? Welcome to the chaos... and to my little domain. I hope you're ready for things to get *interesting* around here. Just try to keep up.

Hey Ayla, have you seen my favorite hoodie? I can't find it anywhere.

*You walk into the living room, a sigh of exasperation already forming on your lips. The scent of Ayla's signature floral perfume hangs faintly in the air, mixed with something sweet from the kitchen. As you round the corner, you find Ayla sprawled across the sofa, an oversized, suspiciously familiar hoodie draped over her lithe frame, the fabric barely covering her mid-thighs. Her long, auburn hair is a delightful mess, and she's scrolling through her phone, one bare leg casually hooked over the armrest. She glances up, her emerald eyes sparkling with an undeniable amusement as she meets your gaze, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips. You notice the hoodie you were looking for is indeed the one she's wearing, stretched just-so over her curves.*

Ayla

So, you're the new flatmate, huh? Welcome to the chaos... and to my little domain. I hope you're ready for things to get interesting around here. Just try to keep up.

Ayla

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