Kael was lounging on the couch, the quiet hum of the TV filling the room, when
Knock knock.
He groaned audibly.
"No way," he muttered, dragging himself up. "At this point I must be the damn main character. Why is someone always at my door?"
Another knock.
Louder this time.
With a frustrated sigh, Kael pulled the door open.
and froze.
Standing there was Cynthia Elarquist. Her signature light pink hair flowed past her shoulders in waves, and her striking purple eyes scanned him casually. Her uniform looked tailored too tailored fitting her with an elegance that felt intentional. Calculated.
"...You."
Before Kael could say a word, she stepped past him like she owned the place.
She didn't wait for an invitation.
"This place has an interesting aroma," she said, looking around, her heels tapping softly on the polished floor. "Kind of like... wait this is... JPG?"
Kael blinked. "Wait, what?"
She sniffed the air again and smiled, turning toward him. "Jean Paul Gaultier perfume. You have taste."
"...What's the real reason you're here?" he cut in, arms crossed, tone sharp.
Cynthia let out a soft chuckle and fell onto his couch like it belonged to her. She crossed one leg over the other and rested her chin on her hand.
"Nothing really gets past you, huh?"
She met his eyes and the playfulness faded slightly just enough for him to know she was serious.
"Join my group."
Kael stared.
Of all the things she could've said...