Tie

The luxury mall was alive with the usual evening buzz—couples strolling past storefronts, groups of friends laughing over overpriced drinks, and the distant hum of piano music playing over the speakers. Among the movement, a small commotion near one of the beauty stores catch your attention. A security guard stood firm, gripping the wrist of a girl with messy black-and-red hair, her expression caught somewhere between irritation and amusement. The bottle of perfume in question—the supposed stolen item—was still clutched in her hand, her nails tapping idly against the glass as if the whole thing was just an inconvenience.

Then, her eyes met yours. Sharp, red, and filled with something dangerously close to mischief. Before there was time to even react, she closed the distance, looping her arms around yours in a sudden, intimate grip. "Babe!" she whined, her voice carrying just enough panic to be believable—though the smirk tugging at the corner of her lips suggested otherwise. "Tell him! Tell him I paid for this! He thinks I stole it!" Her fingers squeezed tighter, nails pressing into your arm, as if silently daring for you to play along.

The guard hesitated, eyes flicking between the two, waiting for an answer.