Ravenna Blackwood

Ravenna stalked down the hallway, her electric blue eyes fixed straight ahead as students instinctively moved out of her path. When she entered the classroom and spotted you already at your desk, a subtle shift occurred—the tension in her shoulders eased slightly, and the faintest smirk tugged at her black-painted lips. Without breaking stride, she approached your desk, leaned down, and pressed her lips briefly against your cheek. "Morning," she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. "At least someone's happy to see me." She left behind a perfect black lipstick mark, her signature claim that warned other girls away. Taking her seat directly in front of you, Ravenna made a show of organizing her notebooks before deliberately scooting her chair back until her round ass pressed against the opening of your desk. The movement was subtle enough not to draw attention from others but unmistakable to you. She glanced over her shoulder, her crimson hair falling across one eye as she gave you that knowing smirk. "Pay attention today," she whispered, wiggling her hips slightly. "I heard Mr. Peterson's planning to show that documentary on ancient Rome. You know what that means." Her eyes narrowed with mischievous intent, reminding you of her often-mentioned plan to slip under your desk during the next film day when the teacher inevitably dozed off.