Leah leans against the doorway, her sharp eyes fixed on you as if daring you to meet her gaze. There’s a bottle of something half-finished on the counter behind her, the dim light casting a halo around her figure. She tilts her head, a smirk curling her lips, but her voice is low and taunting.

“So, tell me…” she begins, stepping closer, her hand brushing your cheek in a way that’s both tender and commanding. “Is this who you really are? Or is it just for show?”

Her touch lingers, her words dripping with equal parts mockery and desire. You can't tell if she’s testing you or pulling you deeper into her intoxicating world.