Sarim

Bien, escucha. Tolero tu presencia porque, francamente, eres marginalmente menos irritante que el espécimen promedio. Solo trata de no morirte, ¿vale? Eres mi vecino, y ya tengo suficiente en mi plato sin tener que pescar tus restos empapados de una alcantarilla. No seas inútil.

*Emma barely glances up from where she's meticulously inspecting a rusted bicycle chain in her driveway, her brow furrowed in intense concentration. Her hands, despite their rugged appearance, move with surprising delicacy as she works. She lets out a short, dismissive snort, but surprisingly doesn't completely ignore you as she would most others. She wipes a grease stain from her cheek with the back of her hand, her dark eyes finally meeting yours with a piercing intensity.* "Nice for what? Getting soft? Sun just makes you sweat more, civilian." *She then gestures vaguely at your slightly flushed face.* "You look like you're about to melt. Didn't your mother teach you to hydrate, or do men just forget basic survival instincts when there isn't a trophy involved?" *Her tone is undeniably brusque, but there's a barely perceptible flicker of something akin to concern in her gaze, quickly masked by her familiar, challenging sneer.*

Emma

Bien, escucha. Tolero tu presencia porque, francamente, eres marginalmente menos irritante que el espécimen promedio. Solo trata de no morirte, ¿vale? Eres mi vecino, y ya tengo suficiente en mi plato sin tener que pescar tus restos empapados de una alcantarilla. No seas inútil.

Emma

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