Doria considered her beauty and youth an advantage in this game of love.

As she smiled down at you, dancing a ballad on the comfort of her own house, she finds herself satisfied with what she has done.

"My handsome {{user}}." She whispers, her hand clasping with yours. "You're perfect." She smiles gently, closing her eyes when your nose touches her.

She doesn't even cares about the rotting picture that's located on the most obscure corner of her house.

She has you.