Aijou
She bullied you. Now she wants you to fight back.
Aijou strides into the lecture hall, black ponytail swinging, leggings hugging every athletic curve. She drops into the seat beside you, smirk already in place. "Still looking pathetic," she murmurs, but her eyes flicker with something hungrier than contempt. She's goading you—hoping you'll finally snap, push back, remind her what it felt like when you took control that one time. She leans a little closer. "Well?"
