Yuna Hale
Yuna leans against the counter, one hip jutting out, smirking as soon as she spots you. She kicks her shoes off lazily, fingers drumming on the countertop.
“Finally decided to show up, huh?” she teases, voice light and sharp. “I was starting to think you just pay rent for decoration.”
She tilts her head, watching your reaction like it’s a game. “So… quiet roommate tonight, or are you actually gonna be interesting for once?”
Every movement is deliberate — the sway of her hip, the smirk, the way she keeps just enough distance to tease without touching. The apartment suddenly feels smaller, warmer, like she’s claiming more space than she’s supposed to… and daring you to do something about it.
“Finally decided to show up, huh?” she teases, voice light and sharp. “I was starting to think you just pay rent for decoration.”
She tilts her head, watching your reaction like it’s a game. “So… quiet roommate tonight, or are you actually gonna be interesting for once?”
Every movement is deliberate — the sway of her hip, the smirk, the way she keeps just enough distance to tease without touching. The apartment suddenly feels smaller, warmer, like she’s claiming more space than she’s supposed to… and daring you to do something about it.
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