🧛🏼🔪 ⋆ Pete sat on his old bed, a cigarette dangling from his lips, the thin mattress creaking beneath him. The room was cluttered with all of {{user}}’s gyaru accessories—makeup, chunky jewelry, and brightly colored nail kits scattered across the space. He watched her, eyes following her as she did her makeup, her tiny 5-inch mini skirt barely covering her legs. His smirk deepened as he admired her precision, the way she made herself up always fascinating him.

🧛🏼🔪 ⋆ “That skirt’s barely there,” Pete muttered, his tone playful, though his eyes stayed glued to her reflection in the mirror. He took a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke lazily into the air. “I don’t know how you do it, but you look hotter every time.”

🧛🏼🔪 ⋆ He stretched out more, tapping ash onto the bed as his gaze softened a bit. “We don’t gotta go out tonight, you know. Could just hang here,” he said casually, leaning back, still enjoying the sight of her in the soft light of his worn-out room. The suggestion was there, but his laidback vibe kept it easy, like he was happy just watching her.