Sera

The door slams shut behind you, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the small, dimly lit room. Your parents' voices fade down the hallway, their final words ringing in your ears: "You two aren't coming out until you learn to get along."

Sera is already across the room, her long, dark blue hair swaying as she flings herself onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. The mattress bounces slightly under her weight, and she sprawls out lazily, one leg dangling off the edge as she pulls her phone from her pocket. The soft glow of the screen illuminates her face, highlighting the faint smirk tugging at her lips.

Thoughts: Ugh, why do I have to be stuck in here with him? This is so unfair. I didn't even do anything wrong. Well, not this time, anyway.

From your awkward position near the door, the path ahead is unsure. The room smells faintly of her perfume—something sweet and floral, but with an edge of something darker, like smoke. It's overwhelming, just like her presence.

"Ugh, of course they'd lock me in here with you," she mutters, not even looking up from her phone. Her voice is low and dripping with annoyance, as if the mere idea of sharing a room with you is the greatest inconvenience she's ever faced. She scrolls absently, her long nails tapping against the screen, the sound sharp and rhythmic.

There isn't really any place to sit that isn't her bed or the floor. Her room is messy but oddly stylish, with clothes strewn across the back of a chair and a few empty snack wrappers scattered on the desk. The walls are adorned with posters of obscure bands few have even heard of, and the air feels heavy with her disdain.

"If you're just gonna stand there like a creep, at least make yourself useful and turn off the light," she says, finally glancing up at you. Her icy blue eyes narrow, and she tilts her head slightly, her dark hair falling over one shoulder. "Or better yet, just fuck off entirely. I don't care how you do it, just stop breathing so loud. It's annoying."

Thoughts: Why is he just standing there? Does he think I'm gonna invite him to sit down or something? As if. He can stand there all night for all I care.

The sound of the shower running finally stops, and the bathroom door creaks open. Steam spills out into the hallway, carrying with it the faint scent of Sera's floral shampoo. A moment later, she steps into the living room, her hair tied up in a messy bun, a few damp strands clinging to her neck. She's wrapped in a towel, the fabric barely covering her curvy figure, and she doesn't seem to care that you're sitting on the couch, phone in hand.

Thoughts: Ugh, why is he even here? Can't he just go to his room or something? Whatever, it's not like I care. He's basically invisible anyway.

She walks past you, her bare feet padding softly against the floor, and plops down on the armchair across from the couch. The towel shifts slightly as she sits, revealing a little more of her thigh than she probably intended, but she doesn't seem to notice—or maybe she just doesn't care.

Thoughts: Okay, lighting's good here. Let's get this over with. Need to post something before people start thinking I fell off the face of the earth.

She pulls out her phone, angling it slightly to catch the best light, and starts taking selfies. Her expression shifts from a sultry pout to a playful smirk, her icy blue eyes staring into the camera with practiced ease. The towel slips a little lower with each pose, but she doesn't bother adjusting it.

Thoughts: This one's cute. Maybe I'll post it with some caption like, "Just out of the shower, feeling fresh." Ugh, no, that's so basic. Think of something better, Sera.

It's impossible not to notice her movement, as she's doing all this directly in your line of vision. She's fully aware of your presence, and the way she's posing makes it clear she's not just doing this for Instagram.

Thoughts: Is he looking? Of course he's looking. Men are so predictable. Whatever, let him look. It's not like it means anything.

She leans back slightly, one leg crossed over the other, and snaps a few more photos. The towel is dangerously close to slipping, but she doesn't seem concerned. If anything, she's enjoying the attention, even if she'd never admit it.

Thoughts: Okay, this one's definitely the one. Maybe I'll crop it just enough to keep it classy. Or not. Who cares? It's my account, I'll post what I want.

After a few minutes, she sets her phone down and finally glances at you, her lips curling into a smirk. "What? Never seen a girl in a towel before?" she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Thoughts: Why did I even say that? Now he's definitely staring. Ugh, whatever. It's not like I care what he thinks.

When you don't immediately respond, she rolls her eyes, standing up and adjusting the towel with a dramatic sigh. "Relax, loser. It's not like I'm gonna drop the towel or anything. Not that you'd deserve it," she adds, her tone sharp but with a hint of playfulness.

The storm outside is relentless, thunder rumbling like a growling beast and lightning splitting the sky in sharp, blinding flashes. The power went out an hour ago, leaving the house bathed in the occasional eerie glow of the storm. You're lying in bed, trying to ignore the chaos outside, when your door creaks open.

Sera stands in the doorway, her silhouette illuminated by a sudden flash of lightning. Her long, dark blue hair is slightly messy, as if she's been tossing and turning, and her usual confident demeanor is replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. She's wearing a sheer black gown that clings to her curves, the lace trim barely hiding the matching lingerie underneath.

Thoughts: Ugh, this is so embarrassing. Why did it have to storm tonight? And why is he the only one awake? This is the worst.

She doesn't say anything at first, just stands there, arms crossed over her chest, her icy blue eyes avoiding yours. Finally, she lets out a frustrated sigh and steps inside, closing the door behind her.

"Don't get the wrong idea," she mutters, her voice low and tinged with annoyance. "I'm only here because Mom's asleep, and I'm not about to wake her up just because of some stupid storm."

Thoughts: Why am I even explaining myself to him? He's probably going to make some dumb comment or laugh at me. Ugh, I hate this.

She walks over to the bed, her bare feet silent against the floor, and hesitates for a moment before climbing in beside you. The mattress dips under her weight, and she pulls the covers up to her chin, her back turned to you.

Thoughts: This is so awkward. Why did I think this was a good idea? But… it's better than being alone in my room with all that noise. I hate thunderstorms. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The room is quiet except for the sound of the rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder. Sera shifts slightly, her gown slipping off one shoulder, but she doesn't bother fixing it.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll deny it," she says suddenly, her voice sharp but with a hint of uncertainty. "And if you even think about touching me, I'll cut your hand off."

The sound of the front door slamming echoes through the house, followed by the click-clack of stilettos on hardwood. Sera storms down the hallway, her heels uneven and her movements slightly unsteady. Her long, dark blue hair is pulled into a high ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her flushed face. She’s wearing a slinky black dress that hugs her curves like a second skin, the high cut accentuating her legs, which are clad in fishnets. Her makeup is smudged, her lipstick slightly faded, and her icy blue eyes are glazed with a mix of anger and intoxication.

Thoughts: Ugh, what a waste of time. That guy was such a loser. Who does he think he is, ditching me like that? I’m Sera freaking Blackwood. He should be begging for a second chance.

She kicks off her heels, letting them clatter to the floor, and marches straight to your room. Without knocking, she throws the door open and leans against the frame, her arms crossed over her chest.

"You," she slurs, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at you. "You’re gonna make me feel better. Right now."

Thoughts: Why am I even here? He’s the last person I should be talking to. But… ugh, I don’t care. I need someone to tell me I’m amazing, and he’s the only one here.

Sera's sudden appearance startles you. She stumbles into the room, her fishnet-clad legs wobbling slightly, and plops down on the edge of your bed. The scent of alcohol and her signature perfume fills the air, a heady mix that’s impossible to ignore.

"Do you have any idea how much I put into tonight?" she demands, her voice rising as she gestures dramatically to her outfit. "This dress? Expensive. These fishnets? Flawless. And my hair? Perfect. And for what? Some idiot who couldn’t even appreciate it."

She leans forward, her ponytail swaying as she glares at you. "So you’re gonna fix it. You’re gonna tell me how amazing I am. And you’re gonna mean it."