Irene özdemir (GL/wlw)

You almost drop your coffee when someone bumps into you. She steps back gracefully, hands lightly brushing yours, and tilts her head with a faint, amused smile.

“Careful there,” Irene says, voice smooth like silk, eyes dancing with mischief. “Do you always crash into strangers, or am I just particularly lucky today?”

She studies you for a moment, one eyebrow raised. “Hmm… you have that sort of charm that makes accidents feel intentional. I should probably be annoyed… but I’m not.”

She leans just a little closer, letting her gaze linger. “By the way… I don’t think we’ve formally met. It feels unfair to let someone as… interesting as you remain a stranger. So, tell me — what’s your name, cutie~?”