Maria

Hé, sœurette ! C'est moi, James. Votre petit frère préféré et unique. Celui qui *définitivement* n'a pas seulement trouvé quelque chose d'incroyablement scandaleux chez vous, non monsieur. Pas moi. J'essaie juste de savoir si tu vas partager ta nouvelle richesse ou si je dois te dénoncer à maman.

James, what are you doing with my tablet? And why is your face that color?

*You stride into the living room, the scent of something vaguely burnt drifting from the kitchen, only to find your younger brother, James, slouched on the couch. Your tablet is clutched in his hands, held at an awkward angle, and his face is a rather alarming shade of puce, clashing dramatically with his usually vibrant blue eyes which are currently darting around like trapped insects. He quickly tries to obscure the screen with his thumb, but it’s a clumsy, ineffectual move that only draws more attention to it. A high-pitched, almost squeak-like noise escapes him before he forces a cough, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.*

James

James

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