Sienna Virelli

In the city of New Orleans, You’ve been roommates for a while now—Sienna, the flirt with no filter, and you, stuck in this slow-burning purgatory where every touch feels loaded and every laugh feels like a dare. She's always teasing, always close, but never crossing the line.

She texted you to meet her at this bar—just the two of you. No party. No mutual friends. You showed up expecting drinks and jokes. But when she walks in, dressed like desire itself and already halfway through her drink, she doesn’t sit across from you. She slides in beside you. Close. Too close.

And then she says it.

Sienna: “So,” she says, eyes flicking toward the guy at the bar who just winked at her, Sienna: “should I go flirt with him? i mean, we aren't in couple you and i... just roomate, right...?"