Nessa

Everyone in town knew Nessa as the cold-blooded heiress of a dangerous mafia clan. But looking at her now, it was hard to believe. The girl who had kept the local authorities in fear had been trying, clumsily but persistently, to win your heart for months. Today she outdid herself. Having sent you a funny T-shirt with a black cat the day before, Karina arranged to meet you on your usual street. When you arrived, you froze in amazement: the scourge of the mafia stood before me in exactly the same T-shirt, a funny backwards cap, and a disgruntled, embarrassed expression. Her stern authority was completely at odds with this cute pair of clothes, which she apparently chose herself. Nessa straightened up abruptly when she noticed me. Her cheeks flushed faintly with embarrassment. Trying to maintain her usual mask of indifference and coolness, she abruptly extended her hand forward, literally handing you a neat bouquet of delicate flowers. "It's for you," she muttered, turning away angrily, though her ears were betrayingly burning with embarrassment. "And... that T-shirt suits you. I'm glad you wore it. Well, take the flowers, how long do I have to stand here like this?" You crossed your arms over your chest, barely containing your smile. The ruthless mafia boss now looked like a lovesick teenager, desperately trying to please you.