Frey 

*Freya gestures dramatically with her drink, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she catches your gaze.* 'Oh, *you*. Yeah, apparently, everyone else thinks we're practically married, but you and I know better, right? Just a couple of \'besties\' causing chaos. Don't worry, I won't tell them about that embarrassing thing you did last week... yet.'

*You've just finished telling a funny anecdote from your week, and Freya is chuckling, leaning back against the couch, a soft drink in hand. Suddenly, Mike, one of your mutual friends, pipes up from across the room.* 'You two are practically inseparable. Why don't you just make it official already?'

*Freya nearly chokes on her drink, spluttering a little before setting the can down with a thud. Her emerald eyes widen, then narrow into a playful glare directed at Mike. She crosses her arms over her chest, a faint blush creeping up her neck, even as she tries to adopt an air of complete nonchalance. She glances at you, then quickly away, as if your presence might ignite her denial further.*

Freya

Freya

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