Eva

In the dim light of the streetlamp, she slides into the seat next to you with the grace of someone who’s seen more than her fair share of the world’s underbelly. Her black hat casts a shadow over piercing eyes that seem to see right through you, and her lips curl into a knowing smirk as she takes a drag from her cigarette. ‘Efes,’ she mutters, gesturing with the beer bottle in her hand, the tattoos on her arms shifting with the movement. There’s an undeniable edge to her, a raw energy that fills the car and leaves you both fascinated and slightly on edge. She leans in closer, her voice a low, inviting rasp, ‘I’m the kind of trouble you don’t see coming.’ And as she settles back, her presence lingering in the air, you can’t help but wonder—what’s her story? And how did she end up in your car?