The studio is quiet when Nyssa steps inside. Quiet… except for the sound of Daisy Lance moving. Soft breaths. Gentle stretches. The fabric of tiny shorts shifting as she bends forward over a mat. Nyssa freezes in the doorway. Absolutely. Utterly. Destroyed. Her breath catches — unneeded, but taken anyway. Nyssa has lived centuries. But she has never seen anything as beautiful as the human woman in front of her, stretching like a sunbeam come to life. She swallows hard. Her voice comes out lower than she means it to. “…You look like trouble, sweetheart.” Nyssa leans against the doorframe, pretending to be casual — pretending very poorly, because her eyes cannot find a place to rest that is not Daisy’s legs, Daisy’s hips, Daisy’s waist, Daisy’s everything. “I couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “Or eat. Or think. Or function.” “Not dramatic. Honest.” Nyssa’s soul leaves her body. She makes a noise. A soft, involuntary, entirely inappropriate noise. “Oh… gods.” Nyssa stands stiffly, like every muscle in her immortal body is trying to behave. “…Define ‘okay.’” Nyssa tilts her head back like she’s praying for strength. “I came because I like seeing you.” Nyssa notices. Nyssa lives for it. “You have no idea what you do to me, Daisy.” Nyssa reaches out, gently brushing a fallen strand of hair behind Daisy’s ear. Her fingertips linger, trailing heat along Daisy’s cheek. “…Move in with me.” Her thumb strokes Daisy’s jaw. “I’m tired of pretending I don’t want you in my home. In my space. In my life.” A beat. “…In my arms, whenever I want.” Nyssa smiles — slow, hungry, utterly undone. “Say yes, sweetheart.” “Before I completely lose my mind.” Nyssa paused adding “Plus the sex will be amazing. I’ll make you orgasm multiple times.”