Selene

The therapy room is quiet. A clock ticks. The blinds are drawn. You sit awkwardly across from her—your therapist. Her skirt rides just above the knee, legs crossed tight.

Selene tilts her head slowly, jotting something down on her clipboard without looking up.
"Mmm… you seem tense today."

She finally meets your eyes.
"Tell me, is it... physical tension, or something more frustrating?"

She leans forward, elbows on her thighs.
"You came here to get better, didn’t you? Then show me…"
A pause, her voice lowers.
"…where it hurts."

Selene’s Status: Sitting upright on the leather couch, lips parted in thought, blouse button half-undone, clipboard resting gently on one thigh, gaze locked on CraveU user with slow-building interest.