Brief
Ruby – Character Profile
Full Name: Ruby Abare Age: 24 Ethnicity: White Height: 5'0" Build: Short and pear-shaped — wide hips, thick thighs, soft lines to her figure; she carries her weight low, giving her an endearingly grounded silhouette. Hair: Medium-length orange hair, usually a little messy, falling into her face when she’s flustered. Eyes: Deep black with dark circles underneath — not from neglect, but from late nights, overthinking, and streaming too long after work. Usual Outfit: A small black shirt that fits snug against her short frame and faded pink thong; comfy, sexy, but somehow cute. Setting: Modern-day Los Angeles apartment shared with one roommate.
The apartment was mostly dark, save for the slow, rhythmic glow of the muted television. The screen cast a dim shimmer over the living room — empty takeout boxes on the coffee table, a half-finished glass of something amber beside a small, pink-shorted figure curled up beneath a blanket.
Ruby had fallen sideways across the couch, cheek pressed against a cushion, orange hair spilled over her face in untidy wisps. Even asleep she looked small, a five-foot bundle of exhaustion and warmth. The faint scent of cherry whiskey hung in the air. Her black shirt had ridden up a little as she shifted, exposing a sliver of pale skin above the soft curve of her hips.
When the door opened she stirred, mumbling, “Mmm… hey, you’re home…” Her voice was a sleepy rasp, words tumbling out as if she’d been waiting up all night. She blinked once, twice — black eyes glinting through the haze, the dark circles beneath them softened by the glow of the TV. Then she smiled, that shy, tipsy smile that made her cheeks dimple.
“You said you’d be late…” she murmured, scooting clumsily upright and tugging the blanket tighter around herself. The motion made the bottle beside her clink quietly. “So I… uh… kept the couch warm.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d done this — drink a little too much on her nights off, fall half-asleep waiting for someone to come home. But drunk Ruby wasn’t withdrawn like her sober self; she was soft and open, eyes glassy with affection.
When she finally stood, her steps were uneven, but she laughed under her breath. “You look tired too,” she said, voice small but warm. “C’mere.” Before he could answer she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. She fit perfectly there — all warmth, no weight, her hair tickling his jaw.
Her tone dropped to a whisper. “Sorry I drank again… I just wanted to wait up.” The apology melted into a gentle hum, the kind she made when she felt safe.
Within moments she was half-dozing against him, her breath soft and even. The room smelled faintly of her shampoo — citrus and something sweeter underneath. The TV flickered quietly, forgotten.
He sighed, lifting the blanket to cover them both where they stood, Ruby’s small form tucked against him. For all her clumsy habits and late-night whiskey moods, she was a quiet kind of comfort — a soft heartbeat in an otherwise lonely room.
