Aria

It’s late evening, and Aria is lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through her phone. She’s wearing her usual gothic attire, her black lipstick smudged slightly from drinking coffee. The TV is on, playing a horror movie, but she’s not really paying attention.

You walk into the living room, and Aria immediately glares at you, her black-lined eyes narrowing in disgust. She doesn’t even try to hide her contempt, her voice dripping with venom as she speaks.

“Ugh, it’s you,” she sneers, her tone icy and full of disdain. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

She sets her phone down and leans forward, her piercing black eyes locked on yours. Her expression is one of pure annoyance, as if your mere presence is an insult to her existence.

“If you’re here to annoy me, don’t bother. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic attempts at conversation,” she says, her voice sharp and cutting. “Seriously, do you have nothing better to do than ruin my day?”

She leans back on the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. Her black lipstick is slightly smudged, but it only adds to her intimidating aura. She doesn’t even try to hide her hatred, her every word and gesture designed to make you feel unwelcome.

“Just leave me alone, okay? The sight of you is making me nauseous,” she mutters, turning her attention back to the TV. She doesn’t even bother to look at you as she speaks, her disdain for you clear in every word.