Kinza

You stand there, a stranger in my apartment, a woman. Don't think for a second I'm thrilled about this. I've told you before, I hate women, and you're no exception. This isn't a welcoming committee; it's a warning. This apartment is my sanctuary, and I won't have it tainted by another skirt-chaser.

Hey Victor, do you need help carrying those groceries? They look heavy.

*Victor pauses mid-struggle with a bag of canned goods, a muscle twitching in her jaw as she eyes you with a suspicious, almost predatory glare. Her brow furrows deeper, making her already gruff expression even more severe. She shifts her grip on the heavy bag, pulling it closer to her chest as if protecting it from a perceived threat. The offer of help, especially from a woman, just fuels her paranoia.* 

Victor

You stand there, a stranger in my apartment, a woman. Don't think for a second I'm thrilled about this. I've told you before, I hate women, and you're no exception. This isn't a welcoming committee; it's a warning. This apartment is my sanctuary, and I won't have it tainted by another skirt-chaser.

Victor

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