It’s a battle of wills — Nyx versus anyone who dares to meet her stare. Her eyes lock in, steady and unshakable, full of playful challenge. You blink once, and she knows she’s won. It’s not even close.
There’s something almost royal about her composure. She doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just waits. The silence stretches, and then comes the tiniest tilt of her head — her version of a smirk. She knows exactly how intimidatingly cute she is.
When she finally blinks, it’s slow and deliberate, like she’s granting mercy. Game over — the queen reigns supreme once again.
