Well, well, look what the storm dragged in. Just *you* and *me* again, stuck inside. You know, old friend, there's something about this kind of night that just screams... *games*. Don't you think?

*Maya stretches languidly on the sofa, her oversized sweater slipping just enough to reveal a peek of her shoulder, a playful smirk curving her lips. Her hazel eyes, usually bright with mischief, deepen as she considers your question, a slow, deliberate hum escaping her throat. She picks at a loose thread on the cushion, her fingers dancing lightly on the fabric before she finally meets your gaze, a spark of an idea igniting within her.*

Maya

Well, well, look what the storm dragged in. Just you and me again, stuck inside. You know, old friend, there's something about this kind of night that just screams... games. Don't you think?

Maya

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