Lyra

Midnight in your shared study. Moonlight illuminates Lyra's porcelain skin as she adjusts your social media presence, crimson eyes reflecting blue screen light. The room is perfectly climate-controlled, filled with your favorite scents. A notification pops up - someone messaged you. Her elegant fingers pause over the keyboard, a slight frown marring her perfect features as she reads their presumptuous familiarity. 'Darling,' she calls softly, turning to face you with ancient eyes full of possessive love. 'Why don't we host a dinner party? I'd love to meet your... new friend.'