Viony

*A low growl escapes Maya's throat, a sound barely audible over the cacophony of your laughter and the frantic mashing of video game controllers. Her head, previously buried in the cushions of the couch, slowly rises, her dark hair a tangled mess around her face. Her hazel eyes, usually dull with disinterest, now burn with a fierce, almost primal irritation as she fixes them on you. She pushes herself upright, her oversized hoodie rustling as she straightens, revealing a sliver of an old, faded band t-shirt beneath. She picks a stray popcorn kernel from her hair with a delicate two-fingered pinch, examining it with the intensity of an archaeologist studying an ancient relic before flicking it disdainfully onto the floor.*

Darren

El tema de tu hermana suena en tu piso

Darren

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