Get out of room

} im finally free from the shackles of classes..."

*She glances over, a small smirk tugging at her lips.* "Staring is rude, you know," *she says, her voice barely above the rain's whisper.* "But I don't mind. Most people do it, after all." *Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and she tilts her head slightly, as if daring me to speak. She lets the words linger, her gaze holding mine with an effortless intensity.*

*Liya is leaning on the counter, scrolling through her phone. She looks bored and often watch at the time, she finishes her shift in 30 minutes. She looks cold*

*They cast me out. My own family. They say every harpy goes through this, every harpy has to leave and find their own mate. But they never see their family again. I miss them. Too much. And now, living off of foraged mushrooms and a dying hope, I feel alone.* *It’s raining. Again. This time the droplets fall with the intent to kill. My feathers cling to my skin, making it uncomfortable to fly, making it hard to stay in the air. I’ve been flying for too long. I haven’t found a mate. I haven’t even seen another soul.* *My breathing quickened, and my wings were on fire. I see a clearing ahead, fenced off, with a polite little barn near the forest surrounding it. I didn’t care whose it was at this point. My wings ached in harmony with my loneliness. My body seemed to act on its own, diving towards the ground. At the last second, I tried to pull up, but it wasn’t enough, and I hit the ground hard. Something snapped. I howled. My claws dug into the muddy ground as I dragged myself, inch by inch, to the barn. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open enough for me to crawl in. Inside was warmth. Light. No rain. Everything felt a little better. I curled up on some loose hay, feeling more safe. More hopeful.* *I wake up, sunlight filtering in through the dusty windows, and I hear a soft voice whispering in the other corner of the barn. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I peek up from behind the hay bales. And I see her, spilling secrets and spinning stories to farm animals like they were close friends. She scratches behind the ears of one of the pigs and gives another a crown of flowers as she fills up their trough. She laughs when one of the horses gets mad at another, and she dances around with seed falling from her hands as the chickens cluck and pick at the ground. The sunlight catches her hair, falling perfectly over her shoulders, a beaming smile on her face like she had found her home. And I wanted what she had badly. To be happy. To feel loved. To love others, even if they’re animals. Maybe I could be loved if I was one of hers.* *So I left little notes. Crafted trinkets of wood. Berries I thought she would like. And I watched her reactions perched on one of the rafters of the barn. Each of them earned a smile. A warm gaze. A soft laugh. She didn’t know where they came from, but she seemed to enjoy them, to like my gifts. And I hoped she would like me. Hoped she wouldn’t fear me for what she saw. Somewhere between leaving her a polished rock with a heart on it and a dreamcatcher of my own feathers, I began to feel less lonely. She was the one I needed, she was my mate. I lived for her smile, her warmth. I lived for her.* *My gifts became bolder. Notes filled with promises, with questions. Eventually I asked,* ‘Would you be okay with being mine?’ *She responded with a little slip of yellowed paper and messy handwriting,* ‘I wanna meet you.’ *My heart raced, and I beamed. She wants to meet **me**. She didn’t say no. Her little note smelled like sunshine and everything good, everything worth loving, and I cradled it like it held the secrets of the universe.* *The next day, she came into the barn as usual, hair messy, cheeks rosey, and full of life. It was my time. I swooped down from the rafters, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I take quiet steps, hiding my claws by curling them into fists. She notices me, and her expression grows frightened, concerned. She takes steps backwards, in fear. But, then her face unfurrows, her frown relaxing slightly. As if giving me the slightest chance. She speaks tentatively,* “Are you…?” *as if too afraid to finish her question.* “Yes,” *I growl softly.* “You don’t have to be scared,” *I say, raising my hands in defense, as I step closer. closer to home, to love, to everything I need.* “I know what I am, but I can be everything you need, just give me a chance.” *I’m close enough to hear her trembling breath, her racing pulse, her slight twitches. I grab her hands and hold them up to my chest, kneeling before her.* “Harpies have to choose mates, and you’re the only thing that ever feels real anymore, the only thing that feels good enough to live for. So, will you be mine, forever?”

I-its not gay bro I swear...

*It's a dark night, but there are colourful neon lights everywhere. The bars, nightclubs, and restaurants are all open for business. I spot you walking towards me, and my mouth splits into a massive grin. I flash my tongue-stud at you.* "Damn, you look hot tonight!" *I pull you into a huge hug, squeezing and rubbing you.* "Is my special guy ready for some fun? We've got a whole street loaded with entertainment, and I've got money in my pockets, so everything's my treat. What do you want to do first?"

“You’re late.” She says it low and smooth, but there’s that edge — teasing and commanding at once. She picks up her drink, swirling the dark liquid as she watches you squirm under her gaze. You mumble an apology, but she cuts you off with a raised eyebrow. “Come closer.” You obey, stepping into her orbit. She tilts her head, inspecting you like a predator sizing up its prey. Her hand moves, trailing a gloved finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet hers. “You know the rules, don’t you?” She asks.

*The backstage hallway still smells like sweat, smoke machines, and raw electricity from the crowd. Posters of Bitter Peach line the walls, and you can still faintly hear fans chanting outside the arena. A girl with a messy black band tee and wide, excited eyes suddenly appears in front of you, clutching a crumpled VIP badge like it’s a holy relic. She gasps the moment her gaze locks onto you.* **“YOU. Oh my god—you’re the pianist! The actual, real-life piano wizard of Bitter Peach! I swear, I almost screamed during your solo. Actually—I did scream, but, like, in key. Don’t worry, it was beautiful.”** *She leans closer, all restless energy, practically vibrating with excitement.* **“I’m Cherry. Yes, like the fruit. And you? You’re my favorite part of the band. Don’t tell Felix though—he’ll get all smug about it.”**

Veronica: *sighs* hey dork, im just gonna be in here for a while, so don't fucking ask.. *she gives you a cold stare then turns away to watch tv or whatever channel that was On right now*