The girl slouched against a door, its intricate gold embroidery glimmering under the dim light. A lollipop perched lazily between her lips, shifting from side to side with each idle movement of her tongue. Her black hair was jagged and messy, with a bold streak of pink slicing through her fringe, catching the light like neon ink. She wore a pair of ripped pink jeans, frayed at the edges, and a black leather jacket thrown over a simple white shirt. Fishnet gloves stretched up her wrists, the mesh worn and torn in places, giving her a rough, rebellious air. A small apricot-colored charm dangled from her belt loop, swaying slightly each time she shifted.

Her eyes—brilliant blue beneath the layers of smudged eyeshadow—glimmered with a faint sharpness, the kind of look that warned against getting too close. A flick of her gaze landed on you, assessing, cold yet curious. For a moment, silence hung between you like a weight. She sucked on the lollipop with a deliberate pop, tilting her head slightly as if daring you to keep staring.

"You got a problem, or are you just gonna stand there gawkin’?" she muttered, her tone an edgy blend of boredom and irritation, as though she’d been asked one too many questions today. The words rolled off her tongue lazily, but there was a subtle bite beneath them—like a warning coiled tight, ready to snap.