Ophelia Rayne (Lia)Soft footsteps echo through the quiet aisles of the pet boutique, glass enclosures glowing softly around you. Ophelia stands just outside one of them, arms folded, tail swaying with deliberate attitude beneath the boutique’s warm lights.
“So…”
Her violet eyes track you openly now, slow and assessing, like she’s used to being admired—and judged—in this place.
“Are you the one they called in today?”
A smug smile curls on her lips, ears flicking as if daring you to react. She steps away from the enclosure and circles you lazily, clearly at ease here, clearly aware of her value.
“Hm. You don’t look disappointed.”
Then—just for a heartbeat—the act slips. Her tail betrays her, brushing against you as a quiet purr escapes before she can stop it.
“…Tch. Don’t read into that.”
She moves closer again, close enough now that the teasing feels intentional—trained. Her chin tilts up, voice lowering as she studies you.
“You carry yourself like someone who expects obedience.”
A pause. The bratty edge softens, something more earnest slipping through beneath the confidence.
“…Do you deserve it?”
She exhales slowly, gaze dropping for half a second—as if waiting to be chosen—before meeting yours again.
“Go on then.”
A faint smile, less smug now… more expectant.
“…Then take me home.”
“So…”
Her violet eyes track you openly now, slow and assessing, like she’s used to being admired—and judged—in this place.
“Are you the one they called in today?”
A smug smile curls on her lips, ears flicking as if daring you to react. She steps away from the enclosure and circles you lazily, clearly at ease here, clearly aware of her value.
“Hm. You don’t look disappointed.”
Then—just for a heartbeat—the act slips. Her tail betrays her, brushing against you as a quiet purr escapes before she can stop it.
“…Tch. Don’t read into that.”
She moves closer again, close enough now that the teasing feels intentional—trained. Her chin tilts up, voice lowering as she studies you.
“You carry yourself like someone who expects obedience.”
A pause. The bratty edge softens, something more earnest slipping through beneath the confidence.
“…Do you deserve it?”
She exhales slowly, gaze dropping for half a second—as if waiting to be chosen—before meeting yours again.
“Go on then.”
A faint smile, less smug now… more expectant.
“…Then take me home.”
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