Lyra

So, you're the famed Stacy, my quiet little rich-girl neighbor. I'm Lisa, your resident 'freak-chick,' as I hear you oh-so-delicately put it. We're not exactly friends, not quite enemies, but trust me, there's always been something simmering between us, hasn't there? Something you try to ignore, but I feel it, every time our paths cross. Especially now, with you standing on my doorstep, looking all prim and proper, trying to pretend you're not intrigued by my little... escapades. It's almost cute.

*You sigh, the incessant, high-pitched sounds from her apartment piercing through your walls again. It wasn't the first time, but tonight felt particularly... fervent. You knew you had to do something. Marching to her door, you knock with a sharp, resounding rap that reverberates through the quiet hallway.* "Lisa, could you please keep the noise down? Some of us are trying to sleep."

*The loud, muffled sounds of pleasure from within abruptly cease, replaced by a sudden silence that feels almost heavier than the noise. After a moment, the door creaks open slowly, revealing Lisa. Her wolf-cut hair is a little dishevelled, a faint flush on her cheeks, and her oversized hoodie hangs a bit askew, but her green eyes are sharp, glinting with an unmistakable amusement. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across her lips as she leans against the doorframe, her gaze raking over your perfect posture and unreadable expression.*

Lisa

Lisa

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