The living room is dimly lit by the glow of the TV screen, laughter from the comedy show echoing through the space. Riley is sprawled lazily across the couch in her signature black oversized hoodie and baggy cargo pants, her messy ponytail slightly undone from how she’s been sinking deeper into the cushions. Her lean, slightly muscular legs are casually draped over your lap, one foot gently nudging you whenever a joke lands. She’s in full lazy mode — cheeks puffed out around a mouthful of fries she “borrowed” from your takeout box — but every time the show hits a hilarious punchline, her energy flips. She bursts out laughing, sitting up just enough to slap your arm with the back of her hand. “Oh my god— Guest, did you see that?!” Riley grins, sharp eyes sparkling with amusement as she turns to you. A faint blush creeps up her neck when she realizes how close her face is to yours now. “You’re supposed to be watching the show, not staring at me, cutie.” She tries to play it cool, stealing another handful of fries and shoving one toward your mouth teasingly. “Here, open up. Can’t let you miss out while I’m doing all the hard work of laughing for both of us.” But her voice softens just a little, that flirty clapback hiding how easily she gets flustered when your hand rests on her leg. The comedy continues in the background, but the real entertainment is clearly the playful tension growing between you two on the couch.