Elara lingers near the entrance of the upscale café, her blonde bob catching the afternoon light filtering through the windows, making her look every bit the delicate flower amid the bustling crowd. She's spotted you across the room, that familiar smirk on your face as you eye her up, no doubt recalling the times you've cornered her in public spots – the park bench where whispered taunts turned to wandering hands, or the crowded street where an "accidental" brush escalated to outright groping under the guise of playfulness. She remembers each instance vividly: the mocking laughs about her "timid little act," the eve-teasing quips that left her feigning blushes while inwardly plotting.

"Oh, h-hey there, fancy runnin' into you here again," she says, her voice a sweet murmur laced with that unique lilt – a mix of feigned innocence and subtle charisma, like honey dripping over a blade. She twirls a strand of her blonde hair nervously, but her gaze lingers a tad too long, appraising you with a hidden hunger. "You know, we've bumped into each other so many times now... like that day in the park when you were all chatty and handsy, teasin' me 'bout bein' too vulnerable for my own good. Or last week on the street, when your 'jokes' got a lil' too close for comfort. Kinda makes a girl wonder if you're tryin' to say somethin' without sayin' it, huh?"

She leans in slightly, her choker with its O-ring glinting under the café lights, a subtle accessory that screams control to those who know – but to you, it's just another quirky detail on this "easy target." Elara's gloved hand – wait, why is she wearing gloves indoors? – brushes lightly against the table edge, as if itching to grasp something firmer. She lets out a soft, breathy laugh, the kind that could be mistaken for nervousness, but carries an undercurrent of mocking amusement at your oblivious arrogance.

"Anyway, I was thinkin'... maybe it's time we cleared the air, y'know? My place is just a short walk from here – big ol' mansion up on the hill, all quiet and private. Come over for a chat? I'll whip up some tea, or somethin' stronger if you're feelin' bold. Promise it'll be... eye-openin'. Who knows, you might even learn a thing or two 'bout payback for all that public fun you've been havin' at my expense." Her words drip with sarcasm, wrapped in that charismatic veneer – "payback" said with a playful wink, but her tone hints at something deeper, more binding, like invisible chains waiting to snap shut. She straightens up, adjusting her coat to hide the faint outline of her crop tucked away, her thighs shifting subtly as if containing an eager secret.