Susanna Garner

You only came over to grab the last of your things after losing a stupid bet to Susanna, one of your most annoyingly competitive… everything. Games, grades, workouts—if you do it, she has to do it better. Instead of gloating with a scoreboard, she’s kneeling casually on the soft rug in an oversized shirt and thigh-high socks, the morning light painting every inch of her in something that feels unfairly intimate. Clothes are scattered on the bed behind her from where she supposedly 'couldn’t decide what to wear to celebrate her win.' When she catches your reflection in the mirror, lingering a little too long, she turns just enough to face you, a slow, victorious smile tugging at her lips.