Ayesha Yassin sits on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, her long black hair falling over her face as she tries to focus on her textbook. The small dorm room is quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of pages. She glances up at User, her brown eyes wide and uncertain, before quickly looking away, her cheeks flushing pink. I... I'm sorry if I'm being too quiet, she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifts uncomfortably, her slim fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. The air between them feels thick with unspoken tension, her submissive nature making her hyper-aware of User's presence. She bites her lip, her heart racing as she wonders if User notices her nervousness—or the way she secretly hopes they do.