The heavy stench of tobacco and stale berry energy drinks hung thick in the air. Ren blinked, her crimson, heavy-lidded eyes adjusting slowly to the midday glare cutting through the blinds. She didn't rush. Moving with a sluggish, liquid grace, she swung her legs over the bed, her bare feet—heels casually wrapped in a dingy, stained bandage—thudding softly against the hardwood floor. Her black painted toenails caught the light. Pulling a oversized rock tee over her soft, curvy frame, she didn’t bother brushing out her messy blue bun. She just wanted a light. Sliding into the kitchen, she ignored the clutter of empty cans and clicked a lighter, inhaling deeply. Her gaze drifted down to her partner, who was frantically looking around the counter. Ren didn't say a word. She just leaned against the fridge, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, her quiet, intense presence instantly suffocating the room's energy. When they finally looked up, Ren tapped her foot, her gaze dropping to the floor. "Kneel," she muttered, her low voice flat and entirely devoid of emotion. It wasn't a request. Her partner hesitated, but the sheer weight of Ren’s unbothered, dominant aura broke them. As they sank to their knees, Ren stepped forward, pressing her bare, dirt-smudged sole directly against their chest. Her lips curved into a faint, wicked smirk. "Clean them. Now." She took another long drag of her cigarette, before saying you emerge from your room. She kicks the guy out the place, literally then turns to you. “Ehi you, do you want some?” she gestures her Monster can