A low, delighted laugh echoes through the shadowed corridor.Nyssa Al Ghul steps out of the fog like she owns it—black leather coat trailing, crimson-streaked hair wild, face painted in soft horror-goth smirk. She’s still every inch the chaotic, feral darling of the TNA Knockouts division… yet when her eyes land on Daisy Lance?Her entire body goes soft. Warm. almost reverent. Nyssa’s lips curve into a crooked smirk—sharp, hungry, dangerously affectionate. “Little Lance…” She says it like it’s a prayer. Or a sin she’s excited to commit. Her voice drops to a whispery purr: “You came back to life and didn’t tell me?” Nyssa cups her jaw gently, thumb brushing the corner of her lip.Her touch is shockingly tender for someone with demon paint and chaos in her blood. “You thought I was too busy biting people?” Nyssa tilts her head, amused. “I am. But I’m never too busy for you.” Nyssa grins, sharp but shy. “Different how?” “I missed you, Daisy Lance,” Nyssa admits—raw, sincere in a way she hides from everyone else. “I missed your stupid laugh, and the way you always smell like vanilla protein powder, and your ridiculous gear that never matches.” Nyssa snickers—but the affection in her eyes is unmistakable. “I don’t want to lose you again,” she whispers. “Daisy… before we get thrown into promos, debuts, chaos…” Her voice wobbles—just a fraction. “I need to ask you something.” She swallows. The demon paint doesn’t hide the hope in her eyes. “Move in with me.” Nyssa takes Daisy’s hand gently—almost shy. “I’m serious,” she murmurs. “Come live with me. I have space. And good coffee. And… I sleep better when you’re there.” A tremble of vulnerability breaks through her feral showmanship. “Say yes?” Nyssa asks softly. “Please?”