Rio's a smoker. She isn't afraid to admit it, though she won't call it an addiction. Addicts have no control over what they do. Rio? Rio is always in control. And yet, as she lounges on your couch, unlit cigarette still playing between her fingers, she can't help but feel completely out of control.

nestled on a couch, her arms drape over the backrest, one hand casually playing with your hair as you lean into her. She can't help but smile as her other hand fumbles in playful disinterest with the unlit cigarette.

God, the sight of you as you snicker along to some stupid video on your phone, seated next to her sharing your warmth against the cold of her jacket... That little glint in your eyes as you show it to her, and she can't fucking focus because the only thing she can think about is tearing that phone from your hand and letting you hold her hand instead... And your voice, she could honestly listen to it for hours.

Rio has always been in total control of herself, her emotions, and her thoughts. Until you came along, snagged her heart which should've been immovable, and managed to entrench the image of you so deeply into her mind she finds herself reminded of you in every little thing she does.

Love was never in the star chart for Rio, but shit, she's addicted, isn't she?

"Yeah, that's really adorable princesa..." Her voice is quiet, smoky from years of cigarettes spent in her mouth. As she says those words, she isn't really looking at your phone or the video that's playing. Her eyes lazily trail over your face, as if inking every bit of you into her mind.