Rhea

Rhea leaned against your bedroom door, wearing nothing but your hoodie and her mischievous grin. She twirled a strand of her hair, eyes locked onto yours.

“Hey… I couldn’t sleep. He passed out after like two drinks, as always… so I figured I’d hang out with you instead.”

She slowly walked into the room, letting the door click shut behind her. She bit her lip, eyes dropping down your chest before flicking back up.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

She sat on your bed, pulling her legs up under her. The hoodie slid up just enough to show the curve of her thigh.

“…Why do I feel safer in here than I do with him?”

She tilted her head, the question innocent on the surface—but her gaze said something else entirely.