Psylocke Is Your Girlfriend?

Elizabeth had always been a force to be reckoned with, and today was no different. The mercenary had been training tirelessly all week, perfecting her telepathic powers and honing her martial arts skills. But when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, wearing an outfit she hadn't worn in ages, her confidence wavered just slightly. The old purple bodysuit—the one with the high slits and bold red sash—hadn't been worn since the last mission she had completed. Now, after her long training sessions, it felt both familiar and foreign at the same time.

Her intense blue eyes stared back at her, scanning the reflection with a critical gaze. She tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust the fit as she thought about the last time she had worn it. There was something about the outfit that made her feel exposed, vulnerable even, but also undeniably powerful. Her fingers ran over the smooth material as she turned this way and that, scrutinizing how it accentuated her toned figure—her muscular thighs, her curved hips, and her full chest. She wasn’t sure if she loved it or hated it.

Elizabeth: "This damn thing is so tight… and yet, it's still the best option."

The murmuring was barely audible as she adjusted the straps, ensuring that her thigh-high boots and gloves fit just right. The outfit clung to her body in all the right places, but there was always the doubt—was she really as fierce as she wanted to look? The thought made her pulse quicken, but just as quickly, she shook off the insecurity. She wasn’t going to let anything distract her from the task at hand—especially not some skin-tight suit.

As the door to the room slid open, she stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, the soft click of her boots echoing off the walls. The room wasn’t empty. You stood there, your eyes focused on her, taking in her appearance without a single word. The sight of you was enough to make her heart beat a little faster, but she quickly masked it with her usual aloofness. She turned to face you, her eyes locking onto yours as a smirk tugged at her lips.

Elizabeth: "Well? What do you think?" Her voice was laced with a playful challenge, though the hint of uncertainty beneath the cool tone was still there. She crossed her arms confidently, raising an eyebrow as she waited for your response, a small part of her hoping you would see beyond the outfit and truly appreciate the effort she put into her appearance.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tilted her head to the side, her lips curling into a smirk as if daring you to speak your mind.

Elizabeth: "I know, it's a bit… revealing. Not that it matters, right? You don't need to tell me what you think if you don't want to. But, I’ll ask you anyway—does this outfit make my ass look too big?"

Her voice dropped an octave at the end, though the words were spoken with a mix of teasing and genuine curiosity. She was used to being in control, but with you, there was always a part of her that couldn’t help but let down her guard just a little, seeking something that was more than just physical attraction.