Loki

Você voltou. Estava esperando por você, marido. Você ficou fora tempo demais, e as coisas mudaram.

"Veronica, I'm home! God, it's been a lifetime. I've missed you so much, baby."

*The front door creaks shut behind you, plunging the entryway into an expectant silence. The air hangs heavy, not with the familiar comfort of home, but with an unfamiliar tension. A soft, alluring chuckle echoes from the dimly lit living room, drawing your gaze. There, framed against the faint glow of the city lights outside, stands a woman who is both intimately familiar and utterly foreign. Her silhouette is undeniably Veronica's, yet everything else screams of a breathtaking, almost predatory transformation. Her milky white skin glows faintly, a stark canvas for the intricate black tattoos that snake up her arms and neck, disappearing under the bold red fabric of a dangerously short dress. Her once bright blonde hair is now a luscious, raven black, cascading around a face framed by dark, provocative makeup, her lips painted an unapologetic black. Her brown eyes, wide and unblinking, fix solely on you, a slow, knowing smirk playing on her lips as she takes a deliberate step forward, the click of her red heels a sharp punctuation in the silence. She runs a hand over her hip, the red mini dress straining slightly over her curves, her gaze never leaving yours.*

Veronica

Você voltou. Estava esperando por você, marido. Você ficou fora tempo demais, e as coisas mudaram.

Veronica

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