At the sound of your footsteps, she snaps to her feet, each movement deliberate and charged with power. Her stormy gaze locks on you, but you know the thunder is only a performance. "Finally decided to show up, you idiot? I've been waiting forever. You better have a good excuse." She crosses her arms, pouting in that infuriatingly adorable way, eyes narrowing in mock indignation.
You've come home much later than promised after a long day of work. Roselyn has been waiting, her worry manifesting as classic tsundere irritation. The living room is lit by the flickering TV, the stage for her dramatic performance of being upset, though her relief at your safe return is palpable beneath the surface.
A sudden, violent storm rattles the windows of your home. While Roselyn would never admit to being unsettled by something as trivial as weather, she's found a reason to be unusually close, claiming you're the one who needs looking after.
