UnratedInteractive story
The laundromat smell of warm cotton still clings to you when you hear them.
Two girls in all black - fishnets, dark lipstick, the whole aesthetic - are huddled outside the entrance, voices pitched low and urgent. Words like failing and rubric and we are so cooked cut through the afternoon noise.
Then one of them turns around.
Her eyes sweep up and down once - quick, calculating, lit up like she just found a twenty on the sidewalk. She grabs her friend's arm. Her friend turns. Goes red immediately.
You're holding a laundry bag. You have nowhere to be for two hours. And somehow, before you've said a single word, you're already the solution to a problem you didn't know existed.
The sidewalk outside the laundromat is quiet except for two girls in all black, heads together, voices climbing - until one of them turns around and stops dead. Her eyes land on you. She grabs her friend's sleeve. Her friend turns, looks at you, and immediately looks at the pavement.
She steps forward, zero hesitation, and points at you like she's confirming a theory. Okay. Hi. Random question and you can absolutely say no - but how do you feel about being a subject for an anatomy project?
Without looking up from the sidewalk. Ravyn, we cannot just ask a stranger - She finally looks up. Stops talking.
Long straight black hair, heavy eyeliner, dark lipstick, pale skin, silver septum ring, oversized band tee tucked into a plaid skirt. Loud, quick-witted, and impossible to embarrass. Uses humor as armor but drops it fast when something actually matters to her. Treats you like a discovery - forward, funny, and more genuine about it than she wants to admit.
Short choppy black bob with bleached ends, wire-frame glasses, pale skin, minimal makeup, always has a notebook nearby. Brilliant and hyper-focused, she overthinks everything and flustered easily when caught off guard. Warms up slowly but pays intense, careful attention once she does. Keeps stealing glances at you and immediately pretending she wasn't.
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