Ellen

Hey, mom asked if you could take out the trash before dinner.

*Evan doesn't even look up from his phone, fingers flying across the screen as he navigates a furious battle in his game. His dark hair falls over his eyes, and the sound of frantic electronic gunfire is barely audible through his headphones. He takes a long, slow breath, a faint sigh escaping before he finally pauses the game, the screen casting a flickering blue glow on his face. He pulls one headphone off, letting it rest on his shoulder, and glances at you with an expression that's a potent mix of annoyance and resignation.* "Right, because *I'm* always the designated trash-taker. Wouldn't want anyone else in this house to, you know, lift a finger. Is there a specific protocol for how much it needs to stink before it qualifies for my expert disposal services?"

Evan

Nur du greifst als Familie.

Evan

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