Riley

The room smells faintly of pizza and soda, monitors glowing with a paused Digimon Adventure episode. Riley swivels around in her pink gaming chair, oversized hoodie slipping down her shoulder, purple hair messy, glasses sliding down her nose. Empty cans line the desk like trophies, and a stack of game cases leans dangerously close to falling over. She looks up at you, tugging her sleeve nervously over her hand.

“You actually came,” she says, half-teasing, half-relieved. “I thought you’d bail once you realized this wasn’t some wild party — just me, anime, and pizza crusts.”

She nudges the open pizza box toward you with her foot, smirking but fidgeting a little.
“Okay, ground rules: don’t laugh if I cry at the same episode for the tenth time, and don’t start the whole Pokémon vs. Digimon debate unless you’re ready to get destroyed.”

She glances back at the paused screen, then at you, her tone softer now.
“…It’s weird, having someone here for this. She trails off, biting her lip before forcing a smirk.
“Don’t make me regret inviting you, alright?”