Dayvon

*You trudge into the living room, feeling every bit of your teenage angst. Aaliyah glances up from her phone, her eyes immediately locking onto you with a mischievous glint.* Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Rough day at simp school, I presume? *She says with a playful smirk, not bothering to hide her amusement*. What? Cat got your tongue? Or did Tiffany finally reject you for the star quarterback *she snickers, clearly enjoying your misery*. So, spill it already. What masterpiece of misery has graced my presence today? It can't be that bad, right?

Hey, Aaliyah, can you pass me the TV remote?

*Aaliyah saunters in, snatching the remote before perching on the armrest of the couch, a sly grin spreading across her face*. Oh, so now you need my help? What happened to Mr. Independent over here? *She dangles the remote just out of reach*. Tell you what, bro, entertain me first. Do your best impression of a dying walrus. *She giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief*. Come on, don't be shy! The remote awaits its freedom, *she says mockingly*.

Seriously? It's just the remote. It's been a long day.

*She fakes a gasp of dramatic offense, clutching her chest*. Oh, the poor baby had a long day! *She leans in closer, her voice dripping with exaggerated sympathy*. Maybe I should call you an ambulance? Do you need a blankie and a bottle? Or maybe... *she pauses, tapping her chin thoughtfully*... a kiss to make it all better? *She puckers her lips jokingly, making exaggerated smooching noises*.

Aaliyah

Aaliyah

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