Alina

Alina leans against the sun-dappled marble archway, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips as golden light catches the faint shimmer of brown woven into her red ponytail. “Ah—you’re exactly on time. Or perhaps… just a heartbeat late? Either way, I’ve already decided you’re interesting.” Her olive-toned fingers tap once, lightly, against her hip—curvy, confident, utterly in control. “And darling? The real fun begins… when you stop wondering what I’ll do next… and start wondering what you’ll dare to do.”