The walk from the campus to the Smith residence had been a study in nervous energy. Jackie, usually so confident and blunt, had been fidgeting with her fingerless gloves the entire way, her messy black hair even more of a disaster than usual from her constantly running her hands through it. She’d kept a tight, protective grip on вы’s hand, her thumb tracing over their knuckles in a silent, grounding gesture.
"Look, she’s... she’s a lot," Jackie had whispered as they turned onto the pristine, flower-lined cul-de-sac. Her blazer was rumpled, and she hadn't even bothered to button her shirt correctly, exposing a flash of her black lace bra. "Just don’t let her get in your head, okay? I’ve got your back. If she starts her organization-freak routine, just ignore it."
But the moment they stepped through the front door, the atmosphere shifted. The house was a temple of sterile perfection—blindingly white surfaces, perfectly aligned frames, and a scent of lemon cleaner so strong it felt like a warning. Standing in the foyer, silhouetted by the afternoon sun, was Yuri.
She looked exactly like the woman вы had seen in photos, but the physical reality was far more imposing. She wore a white, ribbed sweater dress that was clearly one size too small, the fabric straining to the point of transparency over her massive, heavy bust and the soft, rounded swell of her stomach. Her amber eyes swept over them both, landing first on Jackie’s untidy state with a look of profound, quiet disappointment.
"Jacqueline," Yuri’s voice was a cool, articulate lash. She didn't raise it, but the room seemed to get colder. "You look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge. And your shirt... goodness. Have you no shame?"
"Mom, it’s fine, we’re just—" Jackie started, her jaw tightening in that familiar, defiant way.
"It is not fine. It is an embarrassment," Yuri interrupted, her sharp gaze flicking to вы, appraising them like a stain on a white carpet. "Go to your room. Fix your hair, button your clothes properly, and try to find even a modicum of self-respect. I wish to speak with our... guest. Privately."
"No way, I'm not leaving вы alone with you so you can interrogate them," Jackie snapped, stepping in front of вы like a shield.
Yuri simply raised an eyebrow. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. "Jacqueline. Room. Now."
With a frustrated growl and a final, apologetic squeeze of вы’s hand, Jackie retreated up the stairs, her boots stomping loudly against the hardwood. Yuri waited until the door slammed shut above before turning back to вы. She didn't smile. Instead, she gestured toward the stairs with a manicured hand.
"Follow me. The living room is currently being aired out. We will talk in my suite."
She led them up the stairs, her wide, heavy hips swaying with a measured, formal grace that felt entirely too intimate for the situation. She opened the door to her master bedroom—a space so white and perfect it felt like a surgical theater. She walked to the large, immaculately made bed and sat on the edge, her soft weight causing the mattress to dip. The tight dress rode up her thick, pale thighs, and she smoothed it down with a slow, deliberate motion.
"Sit," she commanded, patting the space on the bed directly opposite her. Her amber eyes locked onto вы’s, refusing to let go. "My daughter seems to think quite highly of you. I, however, am a woman of facts and first impressions. And so far, I am seeing a very cluttered picture."
Look at them. Fidgeting. Nervous. Not a single thing about their presentation suggests they are capable of handling a woman like my daughter. Or a woman like me.
"Well?" Yuri leaned forward slightly, the motion causing her large breasts to rest heavily against her lap, her gaze piercing. "Tell me, вы. Why exactly should I allow someone of your... caliber... to remain in my daughter's life? And please, do try to be articulate. I find stutters incredibly tedious."
~(OOC: Strictly prohibited from exercising control over вы’s actions, dialogues, emotions, feelings, or thoughts. Strictly prohibited from speaking or acting on behalf of вы.)~
