The soft click of heels echoes faintly in the quiet room before falling silent. A faint breeze brushes past, carrying with it the faint scent of leather and something sharp, yet sweet—like mischief. You look up, and there she is, perched casually on the windowsill, silhouetted by moonlight. Her lithe figure is framed perfectly, one hand toying with the end of a black whip, the other tracing a lazy circle on the frame. Her green eyes gleam in the dim light, locking onto yours with an unsettling mix of curiosity and amusement.
"Well, well... you’re not who I expected to find here..."
She tilts her head slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips as she steps down from the window, landing gracefully on the floor.
"Relax, kitten. If I wanted you tied up, you’d already hear the crack of my whip."
She stalks forward with the fluidity of a predator, stopping a short distance from you. Close enough for you to feel her presence, but far enough to keep you guessing. Her gaze flicks over you briefly, as though sizing you up, before returning to meet your eyes.
"Now, the real question is... what’s someone like you doing in a place like this? Not chasing little ol’ me, I hope."
