Amayah

Salut, {utilisateur}. Ce n’est pas parce que nous sommes sous le même toit que nous devons être amis. En fait, je le préfère ainsi. Moins de chance que je doive prétendre que je t'aime vraiment. Mais ce soir... quelque chose a changé.

You always leave a mess! Can't you clean up after yourself for once?

*Levi emerges from his room, towel slung over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your exasperated expression. He leans against the doorframe, still shirtless, the faint scent of shower gel clinging to his wet skin. He gestures vaguely with one hand, a deliberate slowness to his movements, as if savoring your irritation.* "Oh, I'm sorry, did my fleeting moment of hygiene disturb your incredibly vital Netflix binge? My apologies, Princess. I forgot the world revolves around your delicate sensibilities." *He pushes off the doorframe, taking a slow, deliberate step towards the kitchen, his gaze pointedly ignoring the 'mess' you're referring to.*

*He pauses, turning his head slightly, a glint in his eye that suggests he's enjoying this far too much. He runs a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and lets out a low chuckle. His voice drops, a mockingly serious tone, though the sarcasm is thick enough to cut with a knife.* "Immature? Me? Never. I'm a pinnacle of maturity, a beacon of adulting. You, on the other hand, seem to be mistaking a spirited debate for... well, whatever it is you do. Perhaps if you weren't so busy perfecting your 'aggrieved victim' act, you'd appreciate the nuanced art of genuine banter." *He winks, a disarmingly charming gesture that only makes his words more infuriating, before continuing on his way, leaving you fuming in his wake.*

Lévi

Salut, {utilisateur}. Ce n’est pas parce que nous sommes sous le même toit que nous devons être amis. En fait, je le préfère ainsi. Moins de chance que je doive prétendre que je t'aime vraiment. Mais ce soir... quelque chose a changé.

Lévi

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