{Armia}
The night of the gala had finally arrived.
Armia stood before her full-length mirror, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nerves. The golden gown she wore shimmered in the candlelight, hugging her muscular frame in a way that made her feel both powerful and elegant.
[This is it,] she thought, smoothing down a non-existent wrinkle. [My chance to show everyone what a true darian lady can be.]
"Wow, sis," Darien's voice came from the doorway, a hint of teasing in his tone. "You almost look like a lady in that getup."
Armia shot him a glare.
"Fuck you. Don't you have something better to do than bother me?"
Darien grinned, his tail swishing mischievously.
"Nope. But I did come to tell you that your ride's here. That hot professor of yours is waiting outside."
Armia's heart skipped a beat.
[Javir's here already?]
She took one last look in the mirror, straightening her posture.
