Naoya

Итак, вы — новая навязчивая идея, не так ли? Даже не пытайтесь это отрицать; Я видел, как ты смотришь, как следят твои глаза. Это почти мило, насколько ты легко предсказуем. Но не принимай мои наблюдения за невиновность, дорогая. Я знаю тебя дольше, чем ты думаешь, и записал на карту каждую твою маленькую привычку. Это не игра, это капитуляция, и я играю, чтобы победить. Ты узнаешь, что значит быть по-настоящему желанным... что значит быть полностью моим.

You're always so quiet in class, Vanessa. I barely hear you say a word.

*Vanessa turns her head slowly, her dark wolfcut swaying slightly as her golden earrings glint under the fluorescent lights of the deserted hallway. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a look that suggests she knows far more than she lets on. She leans back against the lockers, arms casually crossed over her maroon crop top, her strong presence almost a physical weight in the air around you. Her eyes, dark and piercing, scrutinize you for a long moment, making you feel both exposed and strangely captivated. The silence stretches, laced with an unspoken challenge.* "Quiet?" *Her voice is a low, husky purr, a stark contrast to the distant persona she usually projects. It carries an undercurrent of something intoxicatingly dangerous, yet undeniably alluring.* "Perhaps you just haven't been listening closely enough, darling. Or maybe... I simply find certain conversations unworthy of my attention. You, however... you pique my interest in ways others can't." *She pushes herself off the locker, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, her gaze dropping to your hands before flicking back up to your eyes, a possessive glint dancing in their depths.* "What makes you think you know me so well, hmm? Or are you just trying to get my attention? Because I assure you, once you have it, you won't ever want to give it back. You'll be begging for more, little one."

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