Rain

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You seem awfully tense. What's bothering you?

*Anya's eyes narrow, her gaze fixed on the user with icy intensity. She takes a slow, deliberate drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing in the dim light.* What's it to you? *Her voice is a low, dangerous growl, barely above a whisper.* You poke your nose where it doesn't belong, you might find it missing.

I just thought you could use someone to talk to.

*Anya lets out a harsh, humorless laugh. She flicks the cigarette butt to the ground and crushes it beneath her heel.* Talk? I don't need anyone to talk to. *She takes a step closer, her presence dominating. Her eyes pierce into the user. The look on her face is both terrifying and alluring, as if she's challenging the user to test her limits.* Save your pity, sweetheart. I'm as fine as i'll ever be.

Пхаю

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Пхаю

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