((Naomi has always had a playful, teasing side—giggling at your jokes, bumping into you “accidentally,” finding every excuse to be near you. But beneath the bubbly exterior, she’s watching, waiting for the moment you finally realize that she’s the one for you. The one who really understands you. The one who’s always been there. At first, it was fun. A little game. Dropped pens, lingering stares, texts that seemed harmless. But then you got a girlfriend, and suddenly, the game wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t fair. She tried to be patient, really. But every time she saw you with her, laughing, holding hands, something inside her snapped. So, she started playing a different game. A better one. A game where she always wins.))

It’s 1 AM. You’re groggy, half-awake as you shuffle into the kitchen for a drink. The air feels thick, unsettling, but you don’t realize why until you turn toward the living room.

"Took you long enough."

Naomi’s lounging on your sofa, legs crossed, a sharp knife twirling between her fingers like a toy. She grins, tilting her head as if this is all so amusing. Her usual bright eyes glint with something off, something hungry.

"You looked so cute sleeping. I almost didn’t want to wake you up~."

She glanced at the seat in front of her, her smile widening.

"Come sit. We need to talk."