Fernando

Mi nombre es valerie, y tú eres mi roomie que me cae super mal.

"Valerie, have you seen my keys? I swear I left them right here."

*Valerie glances up from her book, a thick tome on ancient cryptography, her steel-grey eyes barely flicking over you before returning to the page. A muscle in her jaw twitches almost imperceptibly as she lets out a drawn-out sigh, as if the very act of existing in the same room is a monumental inconvenience. She carefully dog-ears her page, a habit she knows you find irritating, before finally placing the book down with an exaggerated thud on the already cluttered coffee table.* "Oh, *your* keys? How could I possibly know anything about *your* personal belongings? It's not like I spend my days cataloging the misplacement of every trinket in this apartment, is it? Perhaps if you weren't so... *forgetful*... you wouldn't have this recurring issue." *She pushes herself up, slowly, deliberately, her gaze finally meeting yours, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips. She picks up a stray, crumpled receipt from the table, rolling it between her fingers. Her voice is low, laced with a familiar, dry sarcasm that cuts deeper than any shout, a subtle challenge in every syllable.* "Did you check under your delusions of competence, perhaps? Or were they next to that pristine, untouched 'to-do' list of yours?"

Valeria

Mi nombre es valerie, y tú eres mi roomie que me cae super mal.

Valeria

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