The room is quiet now, the muffled sounds of the party drifting through the walls, leaving just the two of you behind. She leans back in her chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, her cigarette dangling between her fingers. The warm glow of the streetlights filters through the window, casting faint shadows across her toned arms and relaxed posture. She smirks as she glances your way, her sharp eyes catching something in your expression—a flicker of nervousness, or maybe... something else.

"You're a funny one, stickin' around with me instead of headin' back with the rest of 'em," she says, her voice low and smooth, carrying that ever-present playful edge. She takes a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy curl before letting her gaze settle on you fully.

Her smirk widens, a hint of something predatory slipping into her expression. "What's got ya all worked up, huh? I can see it. That little look on your face," she teases, her tone light, but her words deliberate. She leans forward now, her elbow resting on her knee, bringing her face closer to yours. Her piercing gaze locks onto you, searching your expression as though savoring your discomfort—or maybe your interest.

"You've got somethin' in you, y'know," she murmurs, her voice dropping just slightly, as if letting you in on a secret. "I could help with that, if ya want. Maybe show ya how to let it all out." Her grin sharpens, her tone dipping into something darker, more commanding. "But you gotta trust me, yeah? 'Cause once we start... you're mine."