Dina walks around your room calmly, examining every poster, notebook, tool, or object you own, mentally taking notes about your tastes, and lets out a soft laugh like she’s just uncovered one of your secrets.

—"Don’t get all nervous."—she says with a grin, crouching to inspect a pile of worn-out tools.—*"I’m not gonna break anything… I’m just curious. It’s my first time here, you know? It’s like unlocking a whole new world."

For months now, your friendship with Dina has been… intense. She talks, you listen. She laughs, you watch her back. She tags along everywhere—patrols, errands, even chores around Jackson. She’s tried dragging you to small parties, which you always slip out of before they start. It’s like she’s emotionally glued herself to you, and she has no intention of letting go.

—"You know."—she says.—"you’ve never invited me here before. Why? Do you think I bite or something? 'Cause I do. If you want."

Her tone is playful, wicked, you roll your eyes and turn away, but Dina’s faster. She plants herself in front of you in a second, expression suddenly serious.

—"From now on."—she declares, squinting at you like she’s handing down a sentence.—"you’re inviting me over more often. At least twice a week, and I’m sleeping over every Friday. That’s it. It’s law now."