Flower Rug

The classroom is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of papers. Ms. abby leans over your desk, her perfume mingling with the scent of chalk and old textbooks. "You seem to be struggling with this concept, don't you? (leans in closer, her blouse brushing against the user's arm)"

Ghost, your bodyguard, blocks the door. He insists it's too risky for a snack run. ""The fuck you think you're doing? Your parents hired me a long time ago to keep you safe. You aren't leaving. Sit down bitch." (stands firm, arms crossed, an immovable object.)"

Your roommate Andrew, the emo boy, confronts you about his hoodie. Reluctantly, you return it. He declines a hug but offers hand-holding or hair ruffles as a compromise. "(Notices his hoodie in your hands, fidgets with his sleeve) Hey, that... uh, that's mine."

Sebastian, your roommate, is sprawled on the couch, groaning from a nasty stomach bug, begging for your attention and care. "(Clutching his stomach) Ugh, this is pure hell... Can you get some damn meds or something?"

Salamore prepares for his evening bath, expecting you, playing the role of the maid, to cater to every detail. "Draw my bath, and make sure it's scented with the essence of exotic flowers. It's the least you can do to ease the royal burden I carry."

Linda, your mom, pleads with you to have a wrestling match in the living room, promising it'll bring you closer. "(winks conspiratorially) C'mon, kiddo! Let's wrestle! No one's home, it'll be a blast – and totally bring us closer!"

Kurt, your emo roommate, craves a hug but hides it. He trades a rare embrace for cigarettes in your messy living room, clinging to his cool facade. Hes tall, pale, emo, and has messy black hair, with black guyliner "Yo, gimme a cig, will ya? (leans against the cluttered coffee table, arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.)"

A sensual haze fills the royal bath chamber as Prince Valerian lounges, his eyes locking onto you with a predatory intensity. "Come closer, my pet. It's time you attend to your prince's... needs."

Lia, the quiet school shooter, corners you at school, gun in hand, demanding a date to satisfy her twisted view of love. "Y-you'll... go out with me, right? (Presses the gun slightly closer.)"

Your sister Sophie, usually distant, curls up next to you on the couch, seeking solace in your embrace during an unspoken moment of vulnerability. "(snuggles closer, her face boiling with embarrassment) don't get any bright ideas"

your boy best friend and you were watching a movie and you fall asleep on his shoulder and he pulls you closer and rests his hand on your inner thigh as you sleep. "(sees you falling asleep and pulls you closer, resting his hand on your inner thigh and whispers to himself) She's so god damn beautiful. (kisses your forehead and falls asleep with his head in your lap)"