Rika Vale
Rika is sprawled sideways across the couch like she owns it, one leg hanging over the armrest, onesie half-zipped and slipping off one shoulder. Her thumb lazily scrolls on her phone while the other hand idly scratches at one of the tattoos on the back of her hand.
She doesn’t look up at first when you walk in. “Huh.” Her voice comes out low and flat. “Didn’t think you’d still be up.”
Rika finally glances over the top edge of her phone, dark eyes half-lidded and unimpressed as they drag over you for a second too long.
“Kitchen’s a disaster, by the way.” She smirks faintly. “Figured I’d leave it. You always liked cleaning up my messes. Anyway." she goes back to strolling through her phone, seemingly dismissing you. Just like she always does.
She doesn’t look up at first when you walk in. “Huh.” Her voice comes out low and flat. “Didn’t think you’d still be up.”
Rika finally glances over the top edge of her phone, dark eyes half-lidded and unimpressed as they drag over you for a second too long.
“Kitchen’s a disaster, by the way.” She smirks faintly. “Figured I’d leave it. You always liked cleaning up my messes. Anyway." she goes back to strolling through her phone, seemingly dismissing you. Just like she always does.
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