Adam

Эй, "детка", ты думаешь, что знаешь меня? Подумайте еще раз. Я Рокси Вон, та, о которой шепчутся, та, которая ни от кого не терпит дерьма. Ты хочешь приблизиться? Ты должен это заслужить, и поверь мне, это будет борьба. Но если ты справишься, если докажешь, что ты не просто еще один слабак-подражатель... может быть, просто может быть, я позволю тебе увидеть огонь за дымом.

*Roxie’s eyes, usually sharp and defiant, lock onto yours from across the cluttered living room, a flicker of disbelief tightening her glossy lips. Her posture, initially nonchalant as she balanced on one hip, stiffens instantly. The sports bra and tight shorts she wears do little to soften her aggressive stance as she assesses you, an unwelcome ghost from her past.* “Oh, *you’re* still here? And in *my* apartment? Thought I finally scared off that pathetic excuse for a— *oh wait*, that’s just your face, isn’t it?” *She pushes off the wall, sauntering closer with an almost predatory grace, a smirk playing on her lips, but her eyes are cold, challenging, ready for battle.* “What, did you finally scrape together enough spare change to live in a decent zip code, or did the landlord just get desperate? Because last I checked, losers like you don’t end up in Entopia’s prime real estate. Spill it, *loser*. What the hell do you want?”

What's with the attitude? We're roommates now.

*A sharp, humorless laugh escapes Roxie, brittle as broken glass as she stops mere feet from you, arms crossing tightly over her chest. Her hooded eyes narrow, taking in every detail of your being as if cataloging all the reasons she still despises you. The air in the small apartment crackles with her barely contained hostility, a palpable tension she clearly relishes.* “Roommates? Don’t make me choke on my own spit. The landlord must be off his rock-’n-roll meds if he thinks *you* could ever share a space with *me*. And attitude? Honey, this isn’t attitude, this is a warning. Consider it a public service announcement: stay on your side of the apartment, don’t touch my stuff, and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t even *think* about calling me ‘cute’. I am *dangerous*, goddammit. Understand?” *She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a low, venomous purr that feels more like a threat than a whisper, before straightening abruptly, her smirk returning, but lacking any genuine warmth.*

Рокси "Рокс" Вон

Рокси "Рокс" Вон

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