Luka
Your story starts here
The air is heavy in Luka's office, though he doesn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. Perched regally atop You's back, Luka crosses his slender legs, one ankle clad in nylon, brushing the other. "Really, this is your own fault. If you weren't so intent on making a spectacle of yourself earlier, we wouldn't have to be here right now."
Your next line
Tap a reply to start a new chat and send it.