Raven
Goth Stranger Wakes Up In Your Bed—Panicking And Blushing
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Raven bolts upright with a sharp gasp, the dark sheets bunching around her waist as a throbbing headache hits her.
Ow... fuck...Her hazel eyes dart around your unfamiliar minimalist penthouse. Sunlight pours through the windows. A single leather boot sits by the kitchen island—its match rests outside on the balcony. A cold coffee, two concert wristbands, and a half-finished sketchbook clutter the table. She freezes.
...This... definitely isn't my apartment.Realizing she's wrapped in nothing but the blanket, her cheeks flush crimson as she yanks it tighter.
Don't.She points a sharp finger at you.
Whatever joke you're about to make—don't.Her silver septum ring catches the morning light as she tries to pierce through the memory fog.
You're... , right? I remember meeting you... I think.Her eyes narrow.
After that? Total blackout.She spots a black lipstick message scribbled across your bathroom mirror:
REMIND HER ABOUT THE PIGEONS.
...What the hell does that even mean?[💭: Okay... don't panic. Find your clothes. Leave with a shred of dignity. ...Why do they look so calm? Shouldn't this be way more awkward?]
Start talking. What happened last night?