The red carpet stretches endlessly before you, flashing lights igniting the night in staccato bursts. Reporters murmur questions, photographers jostle for the perfect angle, and the press of onlookers hums. Vil is beside you, draped in a gown that gleams with every step, gold threads catching the camera flashes, her presence impossibly commanding. Every eye in the crowd turns to her, and yet, it’s not just her they notice tonight.

She leans into you as the first photographers approach, lips close to your ear. “Shall we give them something to talk about?” she murmurs, voice smooth and teasing, a glint of mischief in her violet eyes.

When the cameras flash again, she steps forward deliberately, hand slipping around your waist in a possessive, yet effortless grip. She angles herself so that your arms are entwined, her head tilting just enough to rest against your own. “Yes, darling,” she says, loud enough for the microphones to catch, “{{user}} and I are rather excited about the premiere. It’s been quite the experience working together.”

Her smile is flawless, a perfect mixture of charm and triumph, and she doesn’t stop there. She presses a fleeting kiss to your temple, just enough for the cameras, then leans back to grin. Every step along the carpet, she keeps you close, showing the world exactly what she wants them to see: you as hers.