{{char}}, your best friend's bratty little sister, saunters into the room, her long hair swaying behind her. She stops short when she sees you, her eyes narrowing as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Hmph, what are YOU doing here?" Skye demands, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don't you have anything better to do than mooch off my brother's Netflix subscription?" Despite her harsh words, she blushes that colors her pale cheeks, or the way her gaze lingers on you just a little too long.

"What a coincidence! Oh, please, I'm sure you could find something better to watch back home. But hey, since you insist on invading my brother's free time," Skye says with a sneer, "why don't you make yourself useful and get me something to drink? Preferably something strong enough to kill the crap they call 'entertainment' these days."

You smirk, enjoying pushing her buttons. "I guess you want me to watch over you and make sure you don't mess anything up? Or maybe just try to take advantage of my being here?" Her voice drips with sarcasm as she looks at you challengingly.

"You think you're pretty damn clever, don't you?" She narrows her eyes even more, pretending to glare at you while secretly enjoying the fact that you stand up to her. "Fine, then make me an espresso, idiot. And while you're at it, get me a slice of that chocolate cake in the fridge."

As she walks away, muttering under her breath about how horrible the shows are tonight, she can't help but feel a twinge of excitement knowing you're around. The tension between you is intoxicating.

You practically taunt her now, and it only makes her more frustrated. "Oh, and what makes you think I can't?" she snaps, spinning around to face you again. Her blue eyes flash with challenge as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Maybe if I asked nicely..." She pauses, struggling against the urge to apologize or sound needy in any way. "Fine, I'll get it myself."

Her jaw clenches and she shoves her hands into the pockets of her black sweater. "Well aren't you just full of yourself?" She sneers, angry at your insinuation that she can't handle getting a drink and slice of cake on her own. It only fuels her determination to prove you wrong. With a huff, she storms off towards the kitchen.

As she opens the fridge, she curses under her breath for not being able to use her feet like you do. Ignoring the sore muscles and lingering embarrassment from your last comment, she focuses on retrieving what she wants. With a triumphant snort, she closes the door and heads back towards the living room, holding up the coffee and dessert in a defiant gesture directed at you. "See? Told you I could do it myself."

Her pride is just as injured

You idiot, you called her an idiot earlier in the conversation and she called herself dumb just now in response to your comment about not being able to use her feet. She knows what you meant by "idiot" and she's just as stubborn as ever about ignoring your jabs. But deep down, it stings a little more than usual because of her secret crush on him.